


Iacon Wasteland

by Epicenter



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 68,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicenter/pseuds/Epicenter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nuclear fallout tends to make things worst for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entering the Fallout Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> Another story. I got too many ideas in my head. Also, this was damn near 20 pages. This is by far the longest chapter for anything I've ever written.
> 
> Yeah, this is a crossover with the Fallout Universe. I think I can make it work.

'War. War never changes.'

Ratchet couldn't help but think that as he was clutching his white chest, trying to prevent the energon from spewing from his bullet wound. The person on his right was doing his best to keep the enemy from advancing in on them while the person on the left was doing his best to cover _multiple_ bullet wound, nearing death. Ratchet had spent his medical supplies on making sure he wouldn't die, so he was stuck suffering through the bullet wound with just a laser pistol.

*Thump!*

A piece of the ruins came down, nearly smashing into the three of them. The shooter was momentarily startled, leading him open for the enemy, who took advantage of it to send a bullet to his shoulder. He gave a pained yell and collapse behind cover, clutching at his shoulder. Ratchet knew they were screwed unless backup comes soon, but that was growing less likely by the minute and the three of them would die in this abandon shithole.

Ratchet gave a groan of reluctant acceptance of his impending death. He really wish things hadn't change so drastically. He wished he was just some doctor instead of a survivor in the aftermath of an apocalypse. He wondered if he should've rejected the invitation if it meant he didn't have to be here, where death was inevitable. That damn invitation…

* * *

"Now, take a few antitechnotic injections and you'll be fine, Red Alert," Ratchet told him. The mainly white bot with some red coloring on his arms, sides, and chevron, was in his sterile and blinding white medical office, tending to a sick patient. He had been feeling a bit under the weather and Ratchet discovered that it was technopathogens that caused this. Problem was, it was Red Alert, the person you would see if you looked up paranoia in a dictionary.

"Are you sure? I mean, they-"

"These are from me to you. Trust me, you're fine," he tried to ease the paranoid individual. "I know you don't trust many people, but you can trust me." Red Alert looked uncertain, flicking his optics all across the room in suspicion before he asked:

"Are you positive this won't hurt me?"

"I'm sure. Just take the injection and you'll-"

*Knock. Knock.*

Small, calm knocks came from the door and Ratchet turned to the door, annoyed. "What is it?" He asked loudly to whomever knocked.

"A messenger for you, Ratchet," came an unfamiliar voice, calm, soft, and very eerie.

"What kind?" he asked.

"From Vault-Tec."

"Never heard of you," Ratchet yelled, annoyed.

"Vault-Tec?" Red Alert asked, as if he knew who they were.

"You know 'em," Ratchet asked him.

"They're a technology company of an unknown type. They're very secretive and bought some land a long time ago. Aside from that, they haven't done anything but that," Red Alert informed him. "I wouldn't trust them very much."

"Mr. Ratchet," the voice began again, "I just came to give you an invitation that you should attend a month from now. I will leave it outside for you. Do take it seriously." The voice stopped and left the two alone, leaving Ratchet to speak again.

"Alright, take these injections, and I assure you that you'll be fine," Ratchet told him again, handing him the vial of antitechnotic and a box of syringes. "Fill up five millimeters."

"Right, yeah," Red Alert agreed, taking the two items. Ratchet went to the door and opened it, letting Red Alert out. Red Alert sprinted out, mumbling to himself, as Ratchet looked around the waiting room. No one was around, but there was a datapad waiting for him. He picked it up and began reading it.

_Dear Ratchet_

_We cordially invite you to an event taking place in a month at Atacoma Hill, just outside of Iacon, as you hopefully know. I know this will seem strange, but this is of the upmost importance. You will not be alone, just so you know. This event will take place for an extended amount of time, so please bring as many supplies with you as possible, both necessary and luxurious. We are taking this seriously and have the backing of the government to do this._

_Let us work together. Be there at 6:00 P.M._

_Vault-Tec_

Ratchet finished reading and was confused by the ominous note. It was certainly suspicious, but they had the backing of the government and other people would be involve in it. It was odd, but if it was officially sanction, than there might be a punishment of some sort for not following along. Ratchet thought this through, wondering if it was worth the risk. After a couple of minutes, he went outside of the waiting room to his clinic to the waiting room for all the doctors in general and walked up to the receptionist, who was slouching behind the counter.

"Yes, Ratchet?" he asked, turning to glare at him.

"Listen, I'm going to need you to cancel all of my appointments a month and later from now," Ratchet informed him.

"That's drastic," he muttered, heading back to get the datapad. "Why is that?"

"The person you sent to me gave me an invitation for something," Ratchet told him.

"Oh, that creepy guy?" he asked coming over and show off all the appointments that Ratchet had.

"What did he looked like?" Ratchet asked.

"Creepy," he answered. "Black with white optics. Average height and build. Creepy voice."

"Right, thanks." Ratchet grabbed it and began eradicating all appointments after the month. "I'll reschedule once I'm done with this… 'event,'" Ratchet told the receptionist.

"Whatever," he muttered, messing around with a small device. Ratchet could tell that he was playing a game from the sounds coming from it, probably a racing game of some sort. Ratchet kept going until he was done and placed it in front of the receptionist.

"Be sure to call and inform these people about the canceled appointment," Ratchet ordered him.

"Uh-huh," he replied absentmindedly and Ratchet left him, heading back to his area to prepare for the upcoming patients. He would have to plan for the event, but he had to care about the patients first.

* * *

"Well, here I am," Ratchet muttered, walking up to the base of the hill where a large crowd were. He could count probably 40 people there, waiting to know what was going on. Ratchet walked over, carrying two white, metal boxes with him. One for his medical supplies, one for his necessities and comforts. He stood away from the crowd with the sun descending behind his back and one of the two moons already being partially visible. As he waited, he felt a little nervous. A crowd this large for an event? It was quite suspicious.

"Hey," a voice said from beside him and he turned to see a bot with a short, stout purple body and tan limbs. The most striking thing about him would be his large purple optics that appeared to be oversized on his square head. "How you doing?" he asked with a charismatic smile, hefting a blue bag around his shoulders.

"Doing fine. Suspicious of what's going on here," Ratchet muttered, looking around.

"Yeah. Good to see I'm not the only one," he said, looking him over. "What do you do?"

"I'm a doctor," he replied.

"Oh, I'm a salesmech of various kinds," he told him. "Sales rep, requisition officer, good-old-fashioned salesmech. I've done a lot. Maybe if the world goes into war, I'll start working as a weapons contractor. I was working as a sales rep for these guys when they gave me an invitation for this experiment and told me that I would get a bonus."

"Really. Then what could you tell me about them?" Ratchet asked him.

"Not much. They're a secretive bunch and I was hired to get some hard to obtained supplies from those unwilling to give it up," he told him. "Mostly security based stuff. High-tech sensors and stuff like that."

"Hurry up," a voice ordered from behind them and they turned to see a mainly purple with black highlights bot with red optics order a red-and-white bot with blue optics. Both of them were roughly the same average size with the black one being slightly taller and wider. The purple color covered the tall one with his head being colored black and black being around his sides. The small one had a red head, body, and legs while his arms were colored white. Both of them were carrying white boxes similar to Ratchet's.

"Well hello there," the tan bot greeted, waving to them. The two walked towards them, stopping in front of them and looking out at the crowd gathering around.

"There's quite a lot of them," the red bot muttered.

"Yeah," he agreed, turning around to get a second look at the group before turning back to them. "So… what's your occupation?"

"I'm a doctor and he's my assistant," the purple bot answered.

"Ah, really. So am I," Ratchet responded with a smile.

"Salesmech. Nor connected to him if you're wondering," the short one told them with a nod.

"Well, my name's First Aid," the red bot told them excitedly.

"Ah, my name's Ratchet," the doctor told them.

"Swindle," the merchant told them with a bright smile.

"Ambulon," the purple bot grunted.

"You don't look like a doctor," Ratchet said to the purple bot, who did looked a bit sloppy.

"I never really cared for aesthetics," he told them. He was a bit sloppy looking, but not so bad that he could give you an infection just by touching you. "I am still a very capable doctor, just so you know."

"I don't doubt it, considering… whoever brought you here saw something in you, as well as I'm guessing the rest of us," Ratchet told them.

"I don't know about that. I'm pretty sure they just invited me here because I'm one of their sales rep," Swindle told them. "They're giving me a pay raise for being here."

"Lucky you," Ambulon sarcastically muttered.

"LISTEN UP!" an incredibly loud voice yelled, causing the four of them to cringe before looking at a rough-looking blue bot trying to get everybody's attention. "MY NAME'S SIREN! IT'S TIME TO BEGIN! FOLLOW ME!" With that, he started walking around the side of the mountain, instead of going up it, which surprised a few people, but they followed along. The four looked at each other.

"Well, guess it's time to follow the loudmouth," Swindle told everyone, heading for the group. The three doctors looked at each other before following along. They sped up to reach the group and followed along the leader as they made their way around the tall mountain, who was rambling along in that loud voice of his.

"WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME HERE, MAYBE! THIS IS GOING TO BE GREAT, QUITE POSSIBLY! IT WILL BE ALRIGHT, IF NOTHING FAILS!"

"He is certainly cynically optimistic," Ambulon noticed. "A nice contradiction."

"I wonder why this 'event' has got him all messed up," First Aid wondered.

"Well, we have no idea what this event is, so he might know something that we don't," Ratchet told him.

"Great. Get my anxieties up," he muttered. The group kept going, with Siren obnoxiously loud voice with his 'cynical optimism' filling everybody's audio receptors with _pain_. They kept going until they reached the other side where an opening in the mountain was, showing off a cave.

"NOW, I HOPE NONE OF YOU ARE CLAUSTROPHOBIC, AS WE GOT TO ENTER THIS CAVE TO GET TO WHERE WE NEED TO GO! I KNOW, VERY CREEPY, BUT WE NEED TO ENTER TO GET TO WHERE WE NEED TO GO! WE HAVE A REALLY AWESOME FACILITY INSIDE FOR THE EVENT!" he instructed them, heading inside the cave. The whole group looked at each other nervously before following along, wondering if he was telling the truth. The group entered the place, one or two at a time due to the small size. With the four of them in the back, they had to wait a while for them to get in.

"I'm… not a fan of tight spaces," First Aid muttered.

"Get used to it," Ambulon muttered. "We're going to be here for a little while."

"I hate this," he muttered. "Why did we agree to this?"

"Interest."

"Great."

"CAREFUL AROUND THE MAGNESIUM WALLS! IT'S TIGHT!" Siren cautioned people as they were nearing the entrance.

"Well, get ready. I don't think we'll be leaving this cave system for a little while, although I'm guessing they built an underground facility here for us," Swindle told them.

"Well, that's a small comfort," First Aid muttered. "It'll still be a small place."

"Maybe, but it shouldn't be too bad," he told them.

"So you say."

"We're reaching the wall. Keep calm," Ratchet told them. Indeed, they were one pair behind the entrance. The pairing in front entered and Swindle and Ratchet paired up with the two medics behind them. They entered dark cave, illuminated by a single line of light along the ceiling that lit the place up dimly.

"HERE'S THE ENTRANCE TO THE PLACE! A BIT BULKY, BUT IT'S SOME STRONG STUFF! EXPLOSIVE RESISTANT AND RADIATION RESISTANT! THE ONLY WAY THIS IS FAILING IS WITH AGE!" Siren shouted to everyone, leaving the four in the back confused.

"Ugh, I wish they had a more spacious cave for us to enter," Ambulon complained, his left shoulder slightly rubbing against the cave wall every now and then.

"Agreed," Swindle responded, his right shoulder rubbing against the wall as well. "This is not a comfy space."

"It's kind of hard to walk through this and carry my stuff," Ratchet acknowledge.

"How long you think we'll stay here," First Aid asked nervously. "I'm already not liking this."

"At least a few days, considering that we had to bring our stuff," Swindle told him. "Shouldn't be that long."

"That might already be too much," he muttered.

"Consider this character development," Ambulon told him, uncaring.

"Good to see you care about me," First Aid muttered.

"I do. It's just- what is that? The entrance?" he asked, startled. The four look up to see this large metal entrance. The frame was a strong, metal while the actual door appeared to be a metal hatch that was pulled back into the base. The number 017 was etched on it.

"Woah… that's an unusual entrance," First Aid mumbled.

"It's… like a vault," Swindle realized. "What if… they're protecting us?" Swindle asked the group.

"Why would someone be targeting us," Ratchet questioned him. "What do all of us have in common that we would need to be protected?"

"…Do you guys live in Iacon?" Swindle asked them.

"Yes. Eastside as does First Aid," Ambulon told him.

"I live in Eastside too," Ratchet confirmed.

"Right… I live in Eastside," Swindle told them.

"So all of these people are from Eastside?" First Aid guessed.

"It would appear that way," Swindle muttered as they reached the door. The four of them entered the entrance room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all clean steel, a wonderful reprieve from walking in the dirty metal. The steel was a cold grey with yellow highlights. On both sides was a booth with a short staircase to enter them with a glass viewing area separating the booth from the entrance. In front of them was a door that led to another room. They entered it to find an elevator on the right, a closed room on the left and a staircase in front of them. They continued descending staircase heading further down. The group continue down the stairs until they emptied out into a big room. It was good for the large group, being a two-story big room, with them on the balcony. They could see that the line was continuing to a door where they were descending down more steps.

"How large is this place?" Ambulon asked, looking around the area.

"I don't know. Sales rep, not a building designer," he told them. "They must have it pretty big to supply all of us."

"I swear, you four keep babbling on," the bot in front of them complained, turning to them, with his red optics. He was purple-white-and-black, however, he was more black than the other two, with purple only being used as stripes for his limbs. "What do you keep talking about?"

"Quick question, you work at Iacon?" Swindle asked him.

"Yeah. I'm a cop," he told them.

"Live in Eastside?"

"Yes," he agreed, looking at them suspiciously. "How do you know that?"

"It seems that they've gather a bunch of people from Eastside and brought them here," Ratchet told him.

"You four are intuitive," he growled. "Thanks for the information. The name's Barricade." The four gave their names. "Thanks for that. It's best to work together if things go wrong here." They arrived at the next set of stairs with a label of 'ATRIUM'. They entered and descended quicker than last time and entered a large room with circular tables everywhere as well as a couple of side rooms and doors that led elsewhere.

"WELCOME ALL! THIS HERE IS THE ATRIUM! THIS CONNECTS EVERY SECTION OF THE FACILITY TOGETHER AND IS OUR MAIN MEETING POINT! WHEN IT IS TIME FOR A GROUP MEETING, WHICH WE'LL HAVE LATER, AFTER YOU HAVE CHECK OUT YOU'RE ROOMS OUT, AND TOMORROW MORNING, WE'LL MEET UP HERE!" Siren explained to the group, turning around to address. "NOW, THAT CORNER," he pointed to the one behind him on the left corner, "LEADS TO EVERYONE'S ROOM! THERE ARE FORTY OF YOU PLUS THE TEN STAFF MEMBERS. THE STAFF MEMBERS HAVE ALREADY CLAIM THEIR ROOMS, SO CLAIM YOURS RIGHT NOW! JUST GO DOWN AND TAKE A RIGHT!" The group paused as they understand what the loudmouth said before heading to the door.

"So, a facility run by a staff of ten," Ratchet muttered.

"They could use more," Ambulon muttered.

"If they plan on making us stay here for an extended amount of time, it's quite possibly that they'll have us doing some of the jobs," Barricade muttered. "They probably invited me here so I can watch people."

"Three of us are doctors," First Aid told him.

"I'm a sales rep for Vault-Tec," Swindle told him, "although I have no idea why they would want me here to help."

"Maybe for supplies," Ambulon guessed. "You can help maintain it."

"I guess." The group reached the steps, passing Siren who was watching over them with his blue optics nervously, biting his fingers nervously. The group went down the stairs where there was a branching path to a left, right, and straight ahead. The group went right and headed down to the right hall. Next was a bunch of hallways. They followed along as the group thin out entering rooms. There were doors on both sides and kept going for ten rooms before branching off left, right and straight, with rooms being on the left and right side while straight went up. The five of them went right and kept going until all five of them were left with five unclaimed rooms at the back of the hallway.

"Well, let's pick out rooms," Ratchet told them, picking the one to the left at the back of the hall. He opened it to find a nice sized room. In it was a recharge slab at the back-right corner, a cabinet and locker for tools and supplies at the back-left corner looking to the right, a desk with a computer on the left wall, and a TV of a great size at the front wall. Ratchet walked over and placed the two boxes on the berth. He opened his box of tools and looked to see all of his medical tools made the trip unscathed. With that done, he walked back out to see Barricade hanging around outside his door, the closest one to the intersection. Ratchet walked up to him and began talking.

"So, cop?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah, been serving for 9,000 years," he told him. "I currently work in homicide. Pays well. Obviously not as good as the gilded heights the senators and all their kind live in, but it's nice enough. Plus, I get to rough up some of the crooks I get."

"Ah, so you're that kind," Ratchet muttered with disgust.

"I only do it to the truly sick ones," Barricade defended himself. "When I first started, I loved doing it, but the more you look into it, the more you realize that a lot of murderers are just desperate people who have been screwed over by a lot of people and more than a few victims were people that were worse than the murderers that killed them. It's why I really enjoy it when the murderer is a sick one that resists arrest. It basically gives me full discretion to break his limbs," he finished with a smile. "I must admit, I do enjoy hurting those that truly deserve it a little bit."

"Hmph, so that's your angle," Ratchet muttered.

"Well, let's talk about you. You're a doctor, what else?" Barricade asked him.

"Well, been a doctor for about as longs as I can remember. Must be verging on 100,000 by now. I make sure that every one of my patients live. Only got a few that died from my operating table from injuries that couldn't be heal. Every now and then, I get a patient that I would prefer dead rather than on my operating table, but I need to get paid and not get jailed for malpractice," Ratchet told him.

"Clinic or hospital?"

"Right now, I'm a clinic doctor," he told him. "It's much easier than being a hospital doctor. I'll probably be going back to a hospital in a few hundred years."

"Right… if they let us out," Barricade muttered, looking around.

"Well, that's done," Ambulon said, getting out, as well as Swindle, from their rooms.

"So, you two have been getting along," Swindle asked with a smirked to Ratchet and Barricade.

"Just some background," Ratchet told him. "We're just waiting for First Aid, right?"

"Yeah. I hope he isn't freaking out so much," Ambulon muttered.

"You guys are very calm." The group turn to see the person exit out of the room across from Barricade. The bot was of an orange color with yellow highlights and yellow optics.

"Well, we got an idea of what's going on," he told him.

"Huh… that's good." He paused before speaking again nervously. "So, since we're probably going to be here for a while, my name's Pyrobyte." The others gave off their name. "Well, nice to meet you. Good to see I can find people to talk to without my twin here," he muttered.

"Same-spark twin?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah. His name is Cryobyte. You can see a theme," he told them with a chuckle, smacking his hands together before he started walking off. "I better head on out and introduce myself to a bunch of other people. Let's talk some more!" he yelled out as he walked down the hall back to the atrium.

"Well, he seems to have low self-esteem," Swindle muttered.

"Hey, guys," First Aid said, coming out. "Shall we head back up?"

"Yeah. See no reason not to," Ratchet agreed along with everyone else agreeing with him. The group began walking back to the atrium and kept chatting with each other.

"Alright, I've got the specific on Ratchet being a clinic doctor and I'm a homicide cop, so what do you guys specifically do?" Barricade asked the three others.

"I work in the hospital, with First Aid as my assistant. We specialize in surgery and ward care," Ambulon told them.

"Sales rep for the people that built this, Vault-Tec. Since we've looked around, I remember bartering with another company on that door that we used to enter the place," Swindle told them. "I heard rumors that they made a lot of these. My guess, they've been using that to supply banks and stuff to make a profit for this place."

"Makes sense," Ambulon agreed. "Where did this company come from, anyway? I never heard of them before I got that letter."

"A patient of mine said they were a technology company and has bought quite a bit of land. I'm guessing this facility is what they use the land for. They are a very esoteric group," Ratchet informed them, walking up the steps to the atrium.

"Well, I guess if we want more information, we better go talk to the one who can't talk quietly," Ambulon said, referring to the guide who brought them here.

"I wonder if he can talk normally," Swindle joked.

"I guess we'll find out." They reached the top of the stairs and entered the atrium where everyone was sitting around at tables. The group of five went to the nearest empty table and took a seat at an empty table near the center. A little away from them, Siren was pacing back and forth, still biting his digits. He was still waiting for the last few to trickle in.

"So," Barricade started for everybody, "how big you think this place is?"

"Don't know, don't care. We'll figure out soon," Swindle told him. "Although it is certainly big."

"Yeah, I guess," he told him, "but it's still worth considering."

"Well, what would it take to run one these underground facilities?" First Aid asked. "Obviously, we need a medical area, along with a generator room of some sort to run anything."

"They'll probably want a security area of some sort, to keep the peace around here," Barricade muttered.

"Storage area for supplies," Swindle mentioned, "especially for energon."

"An entertainment place," Ambulon muttered.

"A washing place to keep our frames clean," Ratchet said.

"That's a lot of rooms," First Aid muttered. "I really hope we don't have to use anything for long."

"ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY'S HERE!" Siren shouted, immediately causing them to flinch in pain. That was going to be tough to get used to. They turned to see Siren addressing the group with a box next to him. "NOW, AS A WELCOMING GIFT FOR ALL OF YOU, WE HAVE SOMETHING FOR ALL OF YOU!" He hefted the box up and brought it around to everyone. Ratchet's group waited until Siren came to them and hand one out to each of them. Ratchet looked at it. It appeared to be some sort of minicomputer that needs to be connected to something, like a wristwatch. Siren kept going, staying quiet as he gave one to everyone and went back to his spot. "NOW, THIS IS A WONDERFUL INVENTION BY VAULT-TEC: THE PIPBOT! OUR HUDS ARE VERY CAPABLE, BUT THIS MAKES THINGS BETTER! FIRST, ATTACH IT TO A WRIST OF YOUR CHOICE!" People glanced at each other before attaching it to their wrist, most of them attaching it to their left wrist. Each one were flexible and capable of stretching and collapsing to fit the user's arm. The device was already activated and waiting to be used. "OKAY, NOW YOU NEED TO CLICK THE SCREEN AND INPUT YOUR NAME IN CASE YOU LOSE IT AND WE CAN RETURN IT TO YOU!"

Everyone did so and inputted their name in, leading them to the main-menu where a variety of things they could do. "NOW, THE DEVICE ACTS AS AN AUTOMATIC MEDICAL SCANNER! IF YOU GO TO CONDITION, IT'LL SHOW YOU YOUR BODY'S HEALTH AND RADIATION AMOUNT! THAT'S REALLY IMPORTANT! YOU CAN ALSO WRITE IN A JOURNAL, UPLOAD MESSAGES TO IT, AND A MAP FOR THIS BUILDING! WE'VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS, BUT I'LL LET YOU EXAMINE THAT AT YOUR OWN TIME! FOR NOW, YOU'RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY YOU'RE HERE? WELL, QUITE SIMPLY, MOST OF YOU WON A SPECIAL LOTTERY!" That cause some confusion as they wondered what he was talking about. "WE MADE A SPECIAL LOTTERY FOR ALL YOU THAT LIVE IN EASTSIDE! WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? WELL, YOU'LL LEARN ABOUT THAT TOMORROW! UNTIL THEN, EXPLORE THE FACILITY! AND JUST A REMINDER, MY NAME IS SIREN AND I'M THE OVERSEER HERE! TALK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING YOU'RE CONFUSED ABOUT!" he finished, walking off to the side out of everybody's way.

"Siren is such an apt name," Ambulon muttered. "I felt like a siren embedded itself into my head."

"Well, what should we check out?" Ratchet asked the group.

"I think that we should just try to relax a little and head to the entertainment room, if they have one," First Aid recommended to them.

"Why don't you check to see if they have it on the map?" Swindle pointed out.

"Oh… yeah," First Aid muttered, looking at his Pipbot and clicked on it a few times. "Got it!" he cheered.

"Where?" Ambulon asked.

"Right above everybody's quarters," First Aid told them.

"So that's where the stairs lead," Ratchet muttered. "Makes sense. Best to keep those two close together."

"This place is really big," First Aid said in awe. "I wonder how long it took for them to build this facility."

"An amount of time," Barricade sarcastically answered, which caused him to frown.

"No need to be rude," First Aid muttered, which he replied with a shrug of indifference.

"Right," Ratchet ordered, "let's go to-" He turned his head and saw someone ask Siren a question. "Oh scrap."

"WELL-,"

* * *

"I'm glad to be away from him," Swindle muttered, rubbing the side of his head to ease his audio receptors as they made their way up the stairs to the entertainment area.

"How can anyone be so loud?" First Aid wondered as they made their way up

"Could be a dysfunctional voice-box," Ratchet answered. "Some people are created defects. His voice box is probably one."

"You would think he would fix that," Barricade muttered.

"The voice box is really hard to work on if you want to change it," Ambulon answered. "It's surrounded by many critical sections and it's hard to work around."

"He's right," Ratchet confirmed. "We don't work on it unless it's absolutely necessary, which it never is."

"It would be comfortable on the audios if you can do that, you be doing the world a service, even if you accidently kill him," Swindle muttered as they reached the room. The group took the time to examine the room. It was colored a cool blue with blue lights furnished with a TV taking up the wall on the left and a bar taking up a corner on the right side. There was stools at the bar and a couch with several seats in front of the TV with tables and chairs at the unused corner and a couple of cabinets around the area. There was few people there, a couple investigating the bar with one investigating the TV.

"Hmm, seems like a nice enough place," Ratchet muttered. "How much does this cost?"

"Well, the TV is worth a 1000 on its own, the couch is 500 with the comfortable chairs worth 200 apiece and the chairs and table in the corner are worth 500 a set. The bar is a little bit more difficult, but I'm guessing 1,200 for that with 50 a stool," Swindle counted everything up.

"You can tell all that from a glanced?" Barricade gawked at that.

"Salesmech. My job," he told them. "Anyway, this is easily over 4000 shanix."

"That's two months of my salary," Barricade grumbled.

"They don't mind paying a great amount for our comfort," Ambulon noted, the group entering the room. The two at the bar had already found the high-grade and were cheering each other as they drank it. The other one, a robot of three shades of blue and lankier than everyone else, was investigating exactly what was in the TV.

"Hey," he said to the group who looked at him oddly before someone spoke.

"Yeah?" Swindle asked.

"This TV," he turned to them, "has every TV show and movie on it. I'm not even kidding."

"Every show?" First Aid asked. "Does it have E.E.R.?"

"Yeah."

"Under the Scalpel?"

"Uh-huh."

"Headspace?"

"Yes."

This made a long series of First Aid asking TV shows and the increasing aggravated robot telling him, yes that show was on the TV. By the time it was all over, the bot was relaxing in the couch, getting ready to take a nap and the others members of the group was getting annoyed.

"You didn't tell me that your partner love to rust himself over watching TV," Ratchet murmured to Ambulon.

"That's because I didn't know he was this obsessed," Ambulon told him, surprised.

"Well, I guess they have a lot at least," First Aid told them.

"Oh, you finally stop!" the blue bot yelled in relief.

"Oh, I'm sorry for annoying you, uh…"

"Tacklebolt," he told him, exasperated. "Please be less annoying."

"Sorry," First Aid apologized. "My name is First Aid."

"Well, at least you're not getting overloaded like my friends over there," he told him, shrugging his shoulder at the drinking couple. One was black-and-yellow bot who was bigger and taller than most, looking like a tank. The other one was yellow-and-blue bot, who was almost as bulky as the one he was drink with. He was probably a supply truck.

"The blackish one is Treads and the blueish one is Tidalshock. I'll probably have to drag them back to their rooms," he murmured the last sentence.

"I… highly doubt someone of your stature could do that," First Aid told him.

"Don't worry, I'm creative," he told him, looking back at the drinking couple. "And they're touching each other again. How grand."

"Uh, what do you, oh," First Aid murmured, watching as the black one took his high-grade energon coated fingers and feeding it to the other one, was gladly accepted it and suck it.

"I forgot to mention, those two are conjunx enduras with each other. They're pretty flagrant with their displays of affections."

"That's… great," First Aid muttered.

"Damn… he's deep-throating that finger," Swindle muttered as he got a device out and started recording them.

"Well, do you guys want to ignore them and watch some TV with me?" Tacklebolt asked them.

"That would be nice," Ratchet agreed, as did the rest of them, minus Swindle, who made a good excuse.

"I know people who would pay for this and I'm not letting the opportunity go to waste." With that, the group took a seat with Tacklebolt on couches and chairs.

"Now, let's watch some TV and chat until it's time to give up," Tacklebolt told them.

* * *

"Wow, can't believe window wiping can be so dangerous," First Aid muttered as Tacklebolt was done finishing a story.

"Well, now you know. Window wiping is some scary stuff," Tacklebolt said, taking a swig of energon. The group was getting used to each other and a few others had entered the room, either drinking at the bar or hanging out with the group watching TV, including Pyrobyte.

"Sounds more exciting than my job as a smelter," Pyrobyte said, taking a drink as well before continuing. "Smelting is dangerous at first, but once you get it, it's effortless. The only thing really dangerous are the gases coming from it, but it only affects organics."

"You work at a smelting bank with the name _Pyrobyte_? What, does your twin work at a cryobank?" Barricade derided.

"Actually, _yes_. Told you our names has a theme," he told them with a chuckle.

"What time is it?" one of the newcomers asked, a yellow-and-orange bot with a generic car kibble, asked.

"It's, uh, 13:57, Sunspot," First Aid answered after fumbling with his Pipbot. "Getting closer to midnight."

"Right. I'm going to my room. Have fun," he said, getting up and leaving the room, with a last word not many people heard. "I already can't wait to get out and see the sun." He exited the room without fanfare. With his exit, Swindle came over from the bar and took a sit where Sunspot was.

"Well, I've got enough footage to make me quite a bit of money," Swindle said with a grin. "I should hire those two professionally."

"That's… disgusting," Ratchet muttered.

"Hey, I make money however I can," he defended himself.

"There are standards," he growled, glaring at him.

"Hey, tonight a night to relax and have fun. Just think, is anybody else in our position, relaxing in this cool underground bunker," Pyrobyte mediated between the two.

"You say it like it's automatically a good thing," Ambulon said. "We still have no idea why we're here."

"Well, it's nice to relax from all the troubles going on up top," said a white-and-black motorcycle with orange tinges.

"Ugh, don't remind me, Lugnutz. Those idiots can't talk with each other and settle things between each other. They're probably going to destroy this world if they keep it up," Tacklebolt joked.

"Hey, it's almost midnight," First Aid said. "Just ten seconds."

"Then, count us down!" Pyrobyte cheered.

"Alright, uh, five, four, three, two, one, and… midnight," First Aid said, "and nothing happen, as it should."

"Well, we sleep through it usually. Do we expect anything different this time?" Tacklebolt asked with a smile. "The world doesn't change in a moment."

"Yeah, I guess," First Aid agreed, a small smile on his face.

"Well, it's midnight. I need to go to sleep for the night," Ratchet announced, getting up. "I'm not supposed to stay up this late."

"Take care, Ratchet. I imagine we'll have some fun here," Swindle told him. I'll be down in a couple of minutes to check up on you."

"Yeah… _hopefully not too much_ ," he muttered the last bit too low for anybody to hear and exited out of the room and went down the stairs. He was coping with the whole thing pleasantly well, but he can't help but feel that something was wrong here. Why bring them to this bunker? Why them specifically? They said a lottery, but there had to be more than that. It just didn't sit right with Ratchet no matter how he looked it.

Ratchet reached the hallway and walked slowly, ready to turn in for the night, but noticed someone next to his door. Sunspot was just hanging around, looking at a datapad. "Hey, are you alright?" Ratchet asked. Sunspot jumped and stared at him in fear before cooling down, knowing that Ratchet didn't mean any harm. Ratchet looked at him with a mix of suspicion and worriment. Something has obviously got him jumped up.

"I'm fine… you next to my room?" he asked, looking at Barricade's door.

"No, I'm all the way at the end," he told him, pointing to his door. "Is everything alright?"

"Uh, well, I'm just worried about… things," he told him, looking guilty. At that, Ratchet could make a guest at what was up with him.

"Let me guess, people trying to kill you," Ratchet answered, causing his optics to nearly pop out.

"Uh, what the… how do you… are you psychic?" Sunspot asked.

"You're seriously equating me to those shams?" Ratchet growled, insulted, causing Sunspot to jump at his hostile tone.

"No, no, no, it'd just… completely on point," Sunspot told him.

"Listen, I'm a clinic doctor, and I've dealt with people who were injured by attempted murderers and they all act like you: jumpy and nervous, although they had the additional effect of suffering from a bullet or knife wound," the doctor explained to him.

"Well, t-that's very perceptive," he muttered. "Look, I work at an observatory at a little bit outside Iacon on Baloka hill. We get constantly harassed from this gang that hangs around outside of Iacon. It was small at first, vandalism and trespassing, but it got a lot worse. That kept pushing and pushing until they started assaulting us and they killed a couple of people. It was just after the murder when I got the note to come to this bunker. I decided to take all of the relevant data and wait until it was time to come. Then, well, I heard that the gang was looking for me and they specifically were after my data so I had to move around until it was time for me to come and, well, here I am," Sunspot finished off his story, feeling relieve at getting that off his shoulders. Ratchet was a little surprised, but not that affected. He had heard a lot of things on the operating table and from patients.

"Well, looks like you're safe here for now. I doubt they can get through that door. It's damn near impossible to break with military explosives, and even less so considering they are just a gang. Relax, you'll be fine here… for now," Ratchet told him and that seemed to calm Sunspot down even more and put a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, thanks for that," he thanked him.

"You're welcome," Ratchet reciprocated.

"I swear, I'm worrying over-"

*Rumble!*

The place shook briefly, surprising the two. "What the frag is that?" Sunspot asked, looking around, going back to his nervous phase.

"That… was an explosion I think," Ratchet answered.

"Oh, no. I knew it. They found me and they're trying to break in!" Sunspot yelled.

"No, that… was far too large for a simple gang to pull off. That was some high-grade stuff considering we could feel it from all the way down here," he debunked.

"Then… then… what was it?"

*Rumble!*

"Another one!" Sunspot yelled. "What the frag!"

"Oh, scrap!" came a voice and Swindle came crashing down the stairs. "

"Swindle?" Ratchet asked, quickly making his way over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just," he got up, a little bit in pain, "that second rumble catch me off guard."

"So, we're not the only one feeling it?" Sunspot asked, moving over to where the two were.

"Yeah, everybody in the room felt that and wondering what's going on," Swindle told him. "I have no idea what's happening."

"Then, how do we figure this out?" he asked.

*SCREECH!*

The three of them grasp their head in pain as the intercom started and Siren started speaking over it. "LISTEN UP! THE MEETING THAT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN IS STARTING NOW! MEET UP AT THE ATRUIM!" The intercom went silent and the three release their grip in relief and wondering what was going on.

"We need to head to the atrium. Maybe he will finally fill us in on what's going on," Ratchet told them. "Let's go." The three of them quickly started heading for the atrium, with a few people exiting their room to head to the atrium as well. They quickly made themselves up the stairs and into the atrium and took a seat at the nearest table to the door. People quickly rushed in, with the group Ratchet was hanging out with join him at the table or the tables next to him. Before they knew it, everyone was there and Siren had made his way to in front of everybody and Ratchet instantly regretted picking the spot, because he was in the front row and would be feeling the full force of his voice.

"ALRIGHT, THIS WAS SUPPOSE TO TAKE PLACE LATER, BUT THE RUMBLES YOU'VE FELT HAS SPED UP THE PROCESS! NOW, CONSIDERING THE CIRCUMSTANCE, IT'S BEST TO GO AHEAD AND EXPLAIN TO YOU TWO THINGS THAT WILL NO DOUBT SURPRISE YOU AND WILL MAKE YOU FEEL… SAD, TO SAY THE LEAST!" Siren explained to everybody and Ratchet could tell, despite how loud he was, that his voice was dejected. "SO, THE TWO THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THIS! THE PLACE WE ARE IN IS A FALLOUT SHELTER AND THE RUMBLE YOU FELT WAS A NUCLEAR BOMB!"

There was a paused and everyone went into an uproar.


	2. Check-Ups

 

Ratchet stayed down as a bunch of people either shot up and started ranting at Siren or was withdrawn and blanked out. Ratchet's table was thankfully the sanest, as their group had already expected something off. That didn't stop the shock look on their faces, but they didn't immediately go into a breakdown or rant at Siren. The only one who wasn't looking very stable was Pyrobyte, who was clutching his head and nearing his breaking point, although Ratchet guessed that he was worrying about his twin, who was still out there….

"EVERYONE CALM DOWN!" Siren shouted to all of them. "FIGHTS ARE THE LAST THING WE NEED!" That wasn't working very well as people were yelling louder and at least a couple were giving threatening looks. Siren, who knew that this probably wasn't going to end well unless he found a way to end their riot, did the only sensible thing that could calm a bunch of unarmed people. He pulled something out of subspace and pointed it at the ceiling.

*Crack!*

All noises in the room stopped as Siren fired off a shot from a pistol. "ENOUGH! THE WORLD IS GETTING THERMONUCLEARLY ANNIHILATED AND YOU ARE WILLING TO RIOT AND MAKE THIS SAFE FACILITY UNSAFE! SO SIT BACK DOWN!" The mob stared at the overseer, some in fear, some in waiting, and some in respect. Slowly, the ones who had got ready to riot sat back down in their seats, and the ones who were about to have a breakdown concentrated again due to the gunshot and Siren's in control yelling. When everyone was back to their seat, Siren began to speak again. "LISTEN, I KNOW THIS IS UNEXEPECTED, BUT IT'S THE FACTS! I'M SORRY THAT YOU LEFT A LOT OF PEOPLE BEHIND! MAYBE IF THEY WERE LUCKY, THEY GOT INVITED TO ANOTHER VAULT AS WELL AND ARE STILL ALIVE!"

"Wait! There are… more vaults?" a timid voice from the back asked, although Ratchet couldn't see the person.

"YES! THERE ARE MANY VAULTS AVAILABLE, THIS ONE BEING VAULT 17! THEY SPREAD ALL OVER CYBERTRON! FROM IACON TO KAON, THERE IS SAFETY AVAILABLE, ALBIET AT A LIMITED AMOUNT! YOU WERE SOME OF THE CHOSEN FEW!"

"How many?" a voiced asked from the front and Ratchet turned to see someone all the way at the other end, a large person with an orange-green-and-purple color scheme.

"TO BE HONEST, I DON'T KNOW! THEY NEVER INFORMED ME OF IT! ONLY THE HIGHER-UPS KNOW!" Siren answered him 'calmly.'

"Well, better question. Who the frag is nuking us to nuclear oblivion?" Swindle asked him.

"WELL, AS YOU KNOW, THINGS UP TOP AREN'T DOING VERY WELL! I PRESUME THAT THE WARRING NATIONS ALL AGREED TO GO TO NUCLEAR WAR WITH EACH OTHER, THUS THE REASON FOR HAVING TO BUILD AND USE THE SHELTER!"

"Wait, wait, hold on. I know how resources work and to build multiple vaults ahead of time would take a long time. You must've known about this way ahead of time," he argued.

"IN CASE YOU DON'T REMEMBER, I'M NOT WITH THE HIGHER UPS! I WAS JUST A SECURITY OFFICER WHEN THEY TOLD ME WHAT TO DO! THEY MIGHT'VE KNOWN, BUT I CERTAINLY DIDN'T," Siren told him.

"What exactly is in this facility?" another gruff voice asked that Ratchet couldn't see.

"LABS, GENERATOR ROOMS, STORAGE ROOMS, ARMORY, CELLS, LIVING QUARTERS, AND ENTERTAINMENT ROOMS, OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD! TO GO ALONG WITH THAT, VAULT-TEC BUILT THIS FACILITY OVER AN ENERGON SPRING WHICH WILL ALLOW US TO SURVIVE HERE FOR A LONG TIME! WE HAVE A ROOM WHERE THE ENERGON IS!" Siren added to his explanation.

"Would that be contaminated by the radiation outside?" Ratchet had to ask.

"MAYBE! WE'LL CHECK IT DAILY TO SEE IF IT INCREASES IN RADIATION! IT WOULD BE VERY HARMFUL FOR US TO INGEST IT!" he told them.

"Why couldn't we just… take a ship and fly off this planet?" First Aid asked, which visibly took Siren off balanced before he answered.

"I DON'T KNOW! THEY NEVER MENTIONED THIS! MAYBE THAT WAS HOW SOME OF THE OTHER PEOPLE WERE TAKEN TO SAFETY! I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW!" Siren answered at his best impression of melancholy. The group quietly got a little excited at that before Siren spoke again. "ANYMORE QUESTIONS?!" he asked.

"Uh, I got one," an orange femme not too far from Ratchet raised her hand up. "Considering everything, what's the estimates for when we can leave this place safely?"

"UH, WELL, THE RECOMMENDED TIME FOR ALL THE RADIATION TO GO AWAY COMPLETELY IS… UNKNOWN!" he gave the entirely unhelpful answered to them.

"Great…," the femme murmured, the other people sharing similar sentiments.

"APOLGIES, BUT IF THERE ISN'T ANY OTHER QUESTIONS, I WILL BE IN MY OFFICE," he turned and pointed up above the atrium to an oculus. "IF YOU WANT TO FIND ME, LOOK INTO YOUR PIPBOT'S MAP AND FIND THE WAY TO IT! MY PLACE IS ALMOST ALWAYS OPEN SO COME SEE ME ANYTIME! PLEASE, LET'S STAY PEACEFUL AND WORK TOGETHER TO FORM A GOOD SOCIETY!" With those last words of encouragement, Siren walked out, leaving the group to themselves. All of them ruminate on it slightly before exhaustion settle in and they all decided to call it a day to charge up and think about what happened.

Ratchet arrived at his room, weary of the coming future and laid down on his bed to recharge the night away.

* * *

*Knock Knock*

"Guah," Ratchet mumbled as he woke up. The knocking of the door startled him and he crawl himself out of the recharge slab. He looked around at his surrounding, wondering where the sun was to shine through the window, before he realized where he was, what was on his wrist, and what happened. Depressed, he got up and walked over to the door, wondering why someone would bother him this early after what happen. He pressed a button on the wall and the door opened, revealing a completely green guard with green optics and Vault-Tec on his chest. He was bulky, larger and wider than Ratchet, and had a rifle holster on his back. He was looking at a datapad in one hand and carrying a box in the other.

"Ratchet?" he asked in a burly voice.

"Yeah," he answered.

"You were late to wake up and missed the meeting this morning at 9:00," he told him.

"What? No one told me about it," he argued.

"Siren told everyone over the intercoms about it at 8:00. They are all over the facility and in your rooms. In case you don't remember, Siren is _loud_ ," he shot his argument down.

"What, but… I didn't hear it," Ratchet murmured.

"You didn't?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Correct. You might want to get a repairmech to check on my intercoms to see if it is broken," Ratchet told him. The guard stared him down, causing Ratchet to pinch his fingers together, before the guard relaxed his glare.

"Alright, I'll go see if I can get anyone to look at it. Until then," he clipped his datapad to the leg and use his free hand to open the box and bring out a card and gave it to him, "here." Ratchet grabbed it and looked at it. It was a white, plastic card with 'MEDICAL BAY' printed on the sides and black coding on it. "This is for the Medical Bay. Use it to unlock and lock the medical bay. You, as well as First Aid and Ambulon, are the only ones here with advanced medical training so you will have these cards as well as Siren, Swindle, and Tacklebolt."

"Wait, why does Swindle, Tacklebolt and Siren get access to the area?" Ratchet asked, confused.

"Siren, as the Overseer, has access to all area with the Universal Card, Swindle is the head of supplies in the area and restocks the areas that needs them, including the Medical Bay, and Tacklebolt is the janitor of the place," he answered.

"Alright," Ratchet murmured, looking at the card. "What time is it?"

"It's-" he looked at his wrist, "-11:00 A.M."

"I've been asleep that long?" Ratchet asked in disbelief.

"It would appear that way. Go find your way to the med-bay and check it out. It's everybody's objective to go check their workplace out," the guard ordered.

"Alright, uh, what's your name?" Ratchet asked him.

"Derve. Now go."

"Alright. Thanks, Derve," Ratchet thanked him and walked past him. He pulled his Pipbot up and looked up how to get there with the map function. A quick look through the map revealed the location of the place and he saw a marker function. He clicked it and asked for where to put it. He clicked it on the Med-Bay and the marker appeared there with a line extending from it past the borders of the screen. He followed it along until he reached his location again, the line reaching his location. The line led through the hallway and Ratchet looked up to see the door heading out of the hallway and followed it to the door and pressed a button, opening the door to a downward staircase.

Ratchet descended down the staircase and reached the next hall, which had a door and windows on the left side, showing off an empty cybergarden, and a door on the right. The only thing in the cybergarden was a couple of scientists talking to each other, probably about what type of plants they will grow in there. The door on the left showed off the sign 'CONSERVATORY.' Ratchet walked passed them and made his way to the next door, heading up the stair case, taking a right up it, and made his way into the hall. Inside, he could see two doors on each side, a sign on the left door saying 'MEDICAL BAY.' He instinctively head into the room to check it out.

Inside, he could see Ambulon and First Aid exploring the place. It was a large, white room with operating tables in the center, medical cabinets on the left and right wall, and a door to the back room. Ambulon was exploring the operating tables and the tools next to them while First Aid was looking over a vial of yellow liquid at the left wall. As this was going on, the back door opened, showing Swindle, looking over a datapad of information. He looked up as he exited and saw Ratchet. "Well, hello there, sleepyhead," he greeted him and the two others turned to look at him.

"Hey, Ratchet. We were worried about you," First Aid said, putting the vial up and rushing on over to him.

"He was. I was wanting to skip ahead to here," Ambulon muttered, walking over to Ratchet as well as Swindle.

"Nice to see that everyone cares for me," Ratchet murmured.

"Apologies," he muttered unapologetically.

"So," Swindle butted in, "welcome to the Med-Bay. The place where you'll work in this 'vault.' Is everything you need here?" Ratchet took a cursory look around. A bunch of medicals phials that would take a while to properly examine to make sure that they were all good, the medical tools looked high-quality, and the place was clean.

"I believe that everything is here, yes," Ratchet agreed.

"That's what I thought as well. High-quality medical tools and medicine that costs a pretty shanix and it looks pretty clean," Swindle agreed. "It should be an alright place to work in for you guys."

"Indeed, it does," Ambulon agreed, looking around. "The surgical instruments are better than what the hospital provides and the medicine are of high-quality."

"Good to hear. Now, I have to go make sure everyone is settling in fine, so I'll go take care of those. Tell me if you need anything else," Swindle told everyone, moving past Ratchet and into the hallway.

"Well, considering the situation we're in, I doubt we'll be using this much anyway," Ambulon said, examining the surgical instruments. "Low population plus high safety maintenance means not many injuries and sickness."

"Yeah… that's good," First Aid agreed, hefting himself up onto a surgery table to sit on it. "We were always so busy at the hospital, dealing with all the people of Iacon. Me and Ambulon usually dealt with emergency situations, so we should do fine here. I imagine all the injuries here will be sudden."

"Yeah, hopefully, along with annual check-up for people," Ambulon agreed. "You're a clinic doctor, correct?" he asked Ratchet.

"I was when they called me over her. I oscillate between the two," Ratchet told them.

"Good to know you have experience with both," he noted. "I doubt anyone who isn't already dead that ends up on our table will die."

"I sure hope so," First Aid agreed. "So, what do you guys want to do?"

"Well, I recommend that we should organize a check-up on everyone," Ratchet recommended. "We don't know any of these people, bar a few of them, and this would be a good way to introduce ourselves to everyone and to make sure no one brought a life-threatening disease with them into the fallout shelter."

"Seems fair. I don't specialize in it, but I can do that and I'm sure my assistant can do that by himself," Ambulon agreed to it.

"Yeah, I can. It's the basics. If I didn't know that, I wouldn't be your assistant," First Aid agreed.

"Great. Ratchet, you can go find Siren and arrange for this to happen. A clinic doctor would be best at arranging it," Ambulon told him.

"Sure thing. I'll go find him. Go make sure all the equipment is working fine while I go arrange it," Ratchet told them, heading for the door.

"Will do," First Aid agreed as he and Ambulon went to work checking the equipment and Ratchet went out into the hallway. Ratchet looked at his Pipbot and at his map, looking for the Overseer's office. Once Ratchet charted a path to get there, set out for it, backtracking through the hallway with the cybergarden and took the door that he didn't use to go up a set of stairs. This led him to another hallway and followed it to an intersection with kept going forward. He could see a door with "Overseer's Office" on a sign above it. The door opened and Tacklebolt walked out frustrated.

"Tacklebolt, are you alright," Ratchet asked as the door closed behind him.

"I'm a fragging janitor! There is so much wrong with that!" Tacklebolt complained to Ratchet stopping in front of him with Ratchet doing so as well. "Do you know how much that sucks?"

"Well, aren't you a window washer? It's not much of a difference," Ratchet told him. "I even saw windows here for you."

"I feel like they put those there just to spite me," he grumbled.

"Well, when are your hours?" Ratchet asked.

"Siren, when he wasn't busy destroying my auditory sensors, said I should do it at night when most people were asleep. So the night shift, basically," he answered, crossing his arm.

"Well, you have the day to yourself," Ratchet told him.

"Yeah, but I don't know how long my sanity can last," he told him, rubbing his arm nervously. "There's a limited amount of things to do in here."

"Well, than get creative. It's not like we can go outside anytime soon," the doctor told him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Radiation will infect our systems and cause systemic shut down of our systems until our spark extinguish. Siren gave a whole spiel about it this morning that _you_ missed, by the way," Tacklebolt replied. "What caused you to miss that?"

"Overslept. I think the intercom in my room is broken, so someone is going to have to fix that," Ratchet informed him.

"Oh, perfect. You are the lucky one with a broken intercom, you slagger," the window wiper complained, rubbing the side of his head. "My auditory sensors are still aching from having to talk to him twice."

"Well, I'm going to go talk to him, so I'll be suffering with you soon," the doctor said, trying to comfort him.

"Well, that makes me feel slightly better," he admitted. "Be warned, it's worse in his office because it's smaller."

"Thanks for the tip," Ratchet thanked him.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm going to go relax or something. Whatever," Tacklebolt complained, walking off. Ratchet watched him go briefly before heading to the Overseer's office. He opened it with the press of a button to a brown, square room. Inside, he could see a locker on the right and left side, a bunch of screens at the wall on the end, and a circular desk in the center with a computer on it. Siren was sitting there, typing into the computer.

"Hello, Siren. I-"

"RATCHET!" Siren 'yelled,' standing up and walking over to him. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING THIS MORNING AT 9:00 AM!?" he questioned, getting up in his face.

"I was in my room! I think my intercom was broken," Ratchet explained to him hastily, putting his hands at the side of his head. "Sorry for not making the meeting."

"…FINE!" Siren agreed, backing off. "I'LL SEND SOMEONE OVER TO FIX THAT!"

"Thank you," Ratchet thanked him, not taking his hand away from his head in pain.

"NOW, IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU CAME TO SEE ME FOR?!" Siren asked, stepping back and resting his hands on the desk.

"Well, me and the other doctors were thinking of having a check-up for everyone here," Ratchet informed him. "We need to see if any of them brought any transmissible disease here and it would be a good way of introducing us to everyone here." Siren listened quietly, thinking things through, before he answered.

"IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA! IT WOUD BE TERRIBLE IF WE ALL SUFFER FROM A DISEASE THAT SOMEONE UNKNOWINGLY BROUGHT IN!" Siren agreed. "I'LL ARRANGE FOR IT THIS AFTERNOON!"

"Great…," Ratchet said, heading out. "Thank you, Siren."

"YOU'RE WELCOME, RATCHET! I'LL BE HERE IF YOU NEED ANYTHING ELSE!" Siren told him, walking back behind his desk. Ratchet walked out of the room, his audio receptors feeling comforted at getting out of the room. He needed to get out of there to keep them working. He backtracked down the stairs to the cybergarden and to the Medical Bay. Inside, Ambulon and First Aid were finishing off looking things over and Ambulon notice Ratchet come in.

"How did it go?" he asked him.

"It went well and we should expect people to come for check-ups this afternoon," Ratchet told them. "Is everything here ready for us?"

"It should be," First Aid told him, walking on over to him with Ambulon trailing behind him. "So, we're going to be handling 47 people tonight."

"We should be, so get ready. This is going to be quick and clean."

* * *

"Here they come," Ambulon muttered, watching as three individuals enter the room. One familiar face and two unfamiliar. The familiar face went to Ratchet.

"Hey, Ratchet. How are you doing?" Swindle asked, taking a seat on the operating table.

"Just fine, Swindle," Ratchet replied, slightly annoyed at who he would have to deal with.

"Hey, no need to sound like that," the merchant said, slightly offended.

"Right," Ratchet muttered, grabbing a syringe and a bowl with a clear liquid and brush in it. "Let me see your wrist. Should be a good energon line there."

"Sure. Got it," Swindle agreed, showing the underside of his right wrist. Ratchet grabbed the brush with the liquid on it and rubbed it across Swindle's wrist. With that, a blue line showed up on it, going up it and slightly off center.

"Alright, there it is," Ratchet murmured, getting the syringe and uncapping it. "Hold that still," he warned him, grabbing it with his free hand and lowered it down to his wrist slowly. Swindle grabbed a hold of his elbow with his free hand to keep it still as well. Ratchet kept his hand steady as it enter the wrist and into the energon line. Swindle gave a few quiet grunts at that, the loudest at the initial entry. "Did you lessen your pain sensors?"

"Nah, I'm just a bit more used to pain than a lot of people," Swindle told him as Ratchet started extracting energon from him.

"Ah, so when do salesmechs have problems involving getting hurt?" Ratchet asked him.

"Not much, really. I just get into a few problems every now and then with gangbangers and their ilk. I treated one of them like a normal customer and he didn't like that, so they decided to beat me up a few times," Swindle explained to him.

"Really? Why didn't you get police protection?" Ratchet asked.

"Because I knew that at least a few of them were corrupt in some way. You won't find any of the news talking about it, but a few customers explain a few of their run-ins with the police and how a few of them seem to completely ignore them whenever the gangs got involve," he explained as the syringe was a quarter full and stopped, pulling the syringe out of his wrist. He put it to the side and wrapped some gauze around his wrist to keep any more energon from leaking out.

"That should prevent any more energon from leaking out and that sample should be enough to see if any diseases enter you energonstream," he told him, getting a tape and putting it on the syringe. He retrieved a pen and wrote Swindle's name on it before placing it at the back away from everyone. "Alright, now just some questions. How are you feeling?" he asked, retrieving a datapad and approaching him. As he did that, he could see Ambulon putting the syringe up as well and First Aid just got done putting the syringe in the person's wrist.

"Well, physically, I'm fine. I'm just a bit… freaked out about what's going on above us as is everyone else, I assume," Swindle told him.

"Not surprising in the least. Tell me, have you visited any places you could get diseases like Thunderbird Forest," Ratchet asked, showing off a list of places.

"Yeah. I was there just last week. It was beautiful. I also visited Proteus Forest and Lateral Shore," he told him.

"How wonderful and far away," Ratchet murmured. "Have you ever been to places with a high disease rate like Kaon?" He showed him the list.

"Yes, I've been to a few of these on business trips. I certainly wouldn't visit them otherwise," Swindle told him, sounding a little disgusted. "I've visited Kaon, Helex, Telos, Vos, and Scalene."

"Purely business?" Ratchet confirmed.

"Yes. While I could've gotten a lot of pleasure there, I wasn't up for risking my life for a high or other things there," Swindle told him.

"How long did you usually stay there?"

"Depends. Some, I was there for a few hours, a couple of days, nothing too long, but sometimes I was there for weeks, sometimes months, just to get a deal going with the jackoffs there. I'll give Iacon credit, people are easier to deal with here. Or were, until the bombs destroyed them," Swindle shrugged, uneasily. "They were more complex, but generally, what they wanted were easier to obtain."

"When was the last one?"

"Thirteen months ago, I went to Vos. Not as bad as the others."

"Have you ever been sick before?"

"Small ones like Flangers. Nothing serious," he answered nonchalantly.

"Any serious injuries you experience recently?"

"I got shot in a drive-by in the shoulder," he responded, showing off a scar at the left shoulder. "I wasn't the intended target. He got several bullets and died on the way to the hospital."

"Lucky you. Have you done any drugs?" Ratchet asked.

"Look, I've… tried most drugs, but that's all I've done. I'm not had extended use with any of them," he explained.

"When was the last time?"

"Roughly… 200 years. Tried out some syk to close a deal with an executive. Didn't like it," Swindle told him.

"Alright," Ratchet murmured. "We are done. Thank you for all the info."

"No problem. Public safety is an important thing to have," Swindle agreed before he started speaking in lower tones. "Look, I probably said some morally disagreeable things here, but I'm being honest with everything I said here. We're trapped here until the radiation goes away and I need someone I can trust unquestionably here."

"Unquestionably?" Ratchet murmured suspiciously.

"Yeah… look, Iacon isn't a place where you can trust anybody. Most people will stab anyone to get ahead. You look like the rare individual who will do the right thing, even if it's not advantageous to you. You're better than me in that regard," Swindle told him bluntly.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked.

"You shouldn't, but I'm the only one who's willing to admit that. Ask anybody else, they'll say yes and won't mean it. All of those diseases places were refreshing in their honesty with how much they despised outsiders like me," he answered him.

"So, you expect an honest person like me to trust a dishonest person like you," Ratchet asked.

"Yes. Find the honest people here, like these other medics if you can trust them, and that orange, green, and purple monstrosity walking around," Swindle told him.

"Monstrosity?" Ratchet asked.

"He's a guy named Bludgeon. He is brutally honest with all of his opinions and assumingly brutal with how he fights as well," Swindle told him.

"What is he?" Ratchet asked.

"He's working now as a guard and as a cybergarden caretaker at this place, but he was invited here with the rest of us. He doesn't work for Vault-Tec, which is a good thing. I wouldn't trust any of them here," Swindle told him.

"What was he before he came here?"

"From what little he told me and from what little I remember of him before I came here, he's a Metallikato master. I remember him because I made deals with him and the rest of the people there for blades from a blacksmith. They needed them very detailed on the handle, handguard, and blade with symbols that I never heard of in gold. It was too retired the old swords they had for a little over two thousand years. They lived at a temple just outside of Eastside, but just in the perimeter of Iacon to get benefits of living in the city," Swindle told him

"He sounds… interesting," Ratchet murmured.

"Yeah. They don't leave the temple often. It's shocking that he did come here, although I can tell he feels guilty of leaving them behind," Swindle told him. "Beware of his temperament when you talk to him. He's honest and honorable, but he isn't very stable. I knew that when I went over there that he was easily the most unstable one there."

"You seriously expect me to make friends with him?" he asked in disbelief.

"Like I said, he's honest and an open book. Just make sure you don't tick him off," the merchant reaffirmed.

"Why, oh, why am I making friends with the crazies?" Ratchet muttered before saying, "Get out. I'll try to get him."

"Sure thing," Swindle said, getting up and heading off.

* * *

"And you are?" Ratchet asked as the fifth person for Ratchet came to him. He was slightly familiar, being the black-and-white motorcycle with orange and yellow highlights on him, although he couldn't quite remember him.

"Lugnutz, dude," he replied with a drawl, taking a seat with a smile. Ratchet saw Ambulon introducing himself to Sunspot and First Aid dealing with a red individual that Ratchet didn't remember seeing, although judging by the Vault-Tec symbol on his chest, he was one of the guards placed here. "How you hanging?" he asked.

"Uh, fine," Ratchet murmured. "Second person to ask me that."

"Cool, cool," he replied with a nodding of his head. Ratchet couldn't quite tell where, but that accent was definitely not from Iacon, even in the most underground of places.

"Wrist." Lugnutz did so with his right hand and Ratchet rubbed the brush on it, but didn't show anything. "What the?"

"Oh, tried the side," the motorcycle recommended and Ratchet did so, revealing a blue line.

"That's unusual," Ratchet muttered, getting the needle.

"Yeah. They said it was defect of some sort. I don't get it. Doesn't make me different from anyone on the outside," he complained.

"Well, correct, but it's still affects you. You're emphasizing that side instead of an equal balance. That greatly affects how much you can lift with your hands," the doctor explained to him.

"Well good thing I'm a courier. That doesn't require much heavy lifting," Lugnutz told him.

"Courier?" Ratchet asked, plunging the needle into the line, causing a small yip to erupt from him.

"Yeah… I'm a drifter at my core, so a courier is the perfect job for me," Lugnutz told him.

"Not many of those," he murmured.

"Yeah, well, people still need to bring physical objects from one place to another. Not everyone has a 3D-printer and some people need it there stat and not in the many days it takes to process it at the mail, and some people simply trust no one in the government," Lugnutz explained as Ratchet withdraw the energon from him.

"Well, good to know. The more jobs, the better," Ratchet murmured as he finished getting it and took out the syringe. He wrapped it in gauze and labeled the syringe before putting it up. "Alright, time for questions," Ratchet said as he got the datapad out.

"If you need info on where I've been, you best let me do it myself. I've been everywhere," he told him.

"We'll see," Ratchet muttered as he showed him a list of natural habitats. "How many?" Lugnutz leaned forward and mark all the ones he been to. Ratchet looked at it and a surprised look came on his face. "Wow, you haven't been to two of these places."

"I travel a lot."

"How about these cities," he said, showing them off and Lugnutz did it again. He looked at it and marked all the ones he been to. Ratchet looked at them and guffawed. "Primus, _all_ of them?"

"Yeah. Part of the reason I took a job was if took me to someplace new. I haven't visited many places more than thrice. I actually made my first visit to Iacon a month ago and what an introduction," Lugnutz chuckled. "I check into a motel for a day before I would leave to Kaon the following day when I got a note asking me to come here in a month. I'm always up for something new, so while I left the next day, I made a note to come back here when it was time. As it turned out, that was a good idea."

"You're taking being trapped in a fallout shelter extremely well," Ratchet murmured, looking at him suspiciously.

"I'm a drifter. I don't know many people for long. I had no personal connection to anyone out there. The toughest thing for me is staying in one place, which this place is really going to test. I actually have to get to know people here and that worries me," Lugnutz nervously said. "I'm good at acting like I'm okay being around people and I'm good for a short time, but an extended amount of time and I get really nervous. Hopefully, I won't go insane here."

"Right," Ratchet murmured, feeling sorry about him. "Alright, when have you been sick?"

* * *

"Pyrobyte. Are you okay?" Ratchet asked him as slumped over and took a seat on the table as the eighth one. He wasn't looking very happy.

"No. I'm worried. I can't feel Cryobyte. I-I don't know what's happened to him," he muttered.

"I'm sorry," Ratchet muttered, taking the wrist and brushing it, revealing a line directly in the center. He grabbed the syringe and plunged it in him, eliciting no response to him.

"I just want to feel him. We spent our whole life together until recently," Pyrobyte told him.

"Once again, I'm sorry," Ratchet apologize. "We had no idea what was going on except for the Vault-Tec people."

"It can't be just them. Other people had to know, in order to plan all of this out," the smelter replied.

"Well," Ratchet murmured, removing the needle and wrapping the gauze around him, "tell me about Cryobyte."

"Well, he's nice and funny and I miss him," Pyrobyte muttered.

"You said you separated recently. What for?" Ratchet asked.

"He got arrested for mechslaughter," he answered.

"Come again?" Ratchet paused, staring up at him.

"He… messed up at work and one of the people who was in cryostasis died because of it. He was slightly intoxicated and arrested him for it, saying that he was criminally negligent and guilty of mechslaughter," he told him.

"Uh… that's tragic," Ratchet murmured, trying his best to sound sincere.

"Yeah… didn't help that the guy was related to a senator and made sure he got the maximum sentence for it," he told him.

"Ouch, tough break," Ratchet murmured.

"Yeah… I doubt with him in prison, he got to go to a vault," Pyrobyte told him, depressed.

"Yeah…I'll skip how you're feeling and just skip to locations. Where have you been?"

* * *

"You again," Derve muttered as he took a seat in front of him. Ambulon was working on Barricade and First Aid was talking to the orange femme from yesterday… and it looked like they were flirting a bit.

"Ah, Derve. Thanks for earlier," Ratchet thanked him as he got his right wrist and started brushing it, revealing a line curving from the right to the center.

"It's my job," he replied as Ratchet put up the brush.

"Still, you were quite helpful in informing me and setting me on the right track," Ratchet told him.

"Once again, it's my job. I'm more professional than the other guards here," Derve told him.

"Why is that?" he asked as he uncapped the syringe and prepared to plunge it in.

"I got honorably discharged from the military after completing my tour. I decided to settle down and have a calm life as a security officer. Nothing much happens to them. Didn't think I would be hiding in a fallout shelter to protect me from a nuclear bomb," Derve explained to him.

"Well, I thank you for your service," Ratchet told him as he plunged the syringe in the wrist, making no noise from Derve, and started extracting energon.

"I was just doing what I thought was best, just like you decided to be a doctor. We both do what we think is best to do," he explained. "At least, I assume that's why you did it."

"I have good hands and I like helping people. Certainly helps that it pays well," Ratchet told him.

"Yes, it certainly helps," the guard agreed as Ratchet was done and removed the syringe.

"How many guards here have had any training?" Ratchet asked as he set aside the syringe and got the gauze.

"Aside from me, the only ones I recognize as having military training is Siren and Joor, the red guard," he told him as Ratchet wrapped the gauze around him.

"I saw Joor here earlier being checked-up on by First Aid," he mentioned.

"He should be fine," he muttered. "Other than those two, I have no idea. Siren was a high-ranking officer when I was discharged and Joor always talks about the military like a true patriot. Haven't really talk to the others."

"Well, thanks for that," Ratchet thanked him as he got the datapad and began asking questions. "How are you feeling?"

"Glad I'm in here. Sad for everyone else who isn't in one," the guard replied.

"How about physically?"

"Perfectly fine. Can't think of anything wrong."

"Alright… which of these locations have you been?" Ratchet asked showing him the datapad.

"Rusted Sea and the Chrome Deserts. My tour took me there," he replied.

"Alright, and the cities?" he asked, showing them off.

"Kaon. Created and raised there. Spent some time as a gladiator in the lightweight circuit until the military recruiter let any of us join them," he answered.

"Gladiator? Never been there, so I don't know how it works," Ratchet answered.

"It's not what popular opinion is. A lot of people have got it in their head that one lost and you're dead. It's not. Replacing gladiators are expensive so they take great care to make sure that we don't die and fights to the death are generally for special occasions or if a rivalry has gotten so much buzz and attention that they have to settle it for good," he answered for him.

"So, did you ever get in life or death situations?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes. It was a special one. Eight person battle royal with only two coming out alive. I got the first and last kill in that fight decapitating the first and ripping the last one's spark out with a knife," he told Ratchet.

"Wow. Impressive," he muttered.

"Not as impressive as the other one. Killed three of the competitors. I didn't concentrate on how he killed them, but I was informed that he got those kills. Glad I didn't have to fight him. He was legitimately creepy. Some guy named Soundwave," he answered.

"What happened to him?"

"Never saw nor heard from him again after I got into the military, so I obviously don't know," Derve answered. "Frankly, I'm fine with that."

"Well, since you were a gladiator and a military mech, I imagine you've had a few diseases," Ratchet asked him.

"Yes, I did. Major ones were a rusting disease I had in the Chrome Deserts, and T-Cog's Bane," Derve answered.

"T-Cog's Bane?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, sorry. Gladiatorial slang for a special technophage that infects the T-cog and spreads to the other area. If it isn't treated, it could spread to the spark and extinguish it, although it has around a 3% fatality rate," Derve replied.

"Thanks for that. Doesn't mentioned that in the list," Ratchet muttered.

"It's because it a disease mostly around Kaon, due to the technophage living solely there," he replied. "Some of the docs in the arena told me that."

"Interesting. Almost makes me wish I was a traveling doctor so I can see this for myself," he muttered.

"Trust me, Kaon is a sinkhole," Derve growled.

"I'm guessing your last visit to these sick places was a long time ago," the medic guessed.

"Yeah. I'm not good with time, so just put a long time ago."

"Sure thing. Now, have you taken any drugs?" Ratchet inquired.

"Nothing except whatever the doctor ordered," he replied.

"Alright. That's it," Ratchet told him, backing away. "Thanks for coming in."

"No problem," he replied, getting up. "Have a good day."

* * *

"You… must be Bludgeon," Ratchet greeted the eleventh person, the large green-orange-and-purple mech who look a little like a samurai with a skeletal face. Ratchet hesitated before moving over to him while Ambulon was asking Treads questions and First Aid was dealing with his conjunx endura. "Let me see your wrist." Bludgeon gave him a death glare before doing so and allowing Ratchet to rub his right wrist with the brush, showing off a near perfectly-centered line, causing Bludgeon to look at it with interest.

"What is that?" he asked, confused.

"Huh. That's your energon line," Ratchet informed him, pausing. "Have you ever had a check-up before?"

"No."

"Oh, well, I'll be extracting energon from there," he informed him, getting the syringe. "You've never had a check-up before?"

"No. We don't allow many outsiders inside at the temple," Bludgeon answered.

"Okay…," Ratchet muttered as he lowered the syringe to the wrist. "Don't move. You'll feel a slight sting."

"Understood," he muttered. Ratchet lowered the syringe into the wrist and Bludgeon didn't give any sign that he felt it. Ratchet started extracting his energon as Bludgeon waited silently.

"So, how is the temple?" Ratchet asked.

"Why do you ask?" he replied.

"Uh, well, I want to get to know everyone," Ratchet answered.

"I doubt that…." he threaten.

"Well, I heard good things about you," Ratchet told him.

"Who…."

"Uh, Swindle," he answered.

"Hmph, the merchant," Bludgeon muttered, his tone lightening. "Greedy and dishonest, but he got me my sword."

"He said I could trust you," Ratchet told him, taking the syringe out and getting the gauze.

"Did he now?" he questioned to which Ratchet gave a shake of his head yes. "Hmph, I don't trust him."

"Same, but at least he's honest about his dishonesty," Ratchet told him.

"That's true. He was always blunt around the master, mostly because the master would know if he was lying or not. Still, it's more than can be said for the others around here. They're always keeping secrets," Bludgeon muttered.

"Understandable," Ratchet muttered, finished with the gauze and moving on to get the datapad. "How are you feeling?"

"I am physically and mentally fine," Bludgeon replied. "I am… unnerved about the nukes that have fallen on us, but so is everyone else. No one expected that and we're all worried about what is going on up top, especially to the ones we care about."

"Most people," Ratchet silently muttered. "I'm guessing you haven't explored much or taken any drugs."

"I don't travel and we take plants from the cybergarden for any ailments," Bludgeon told him.

"Alright, you're done," Ratchet told him, turning away to place everything away.

"Alright, I will take my leave," Bludgeon replied, getting up. "And if you wish to talk to me, come by at any time I'm not working."

"Huh?" Ratchet asked and turned to see Bludgeon's back as he exited the room. Well, he wasn't expecting that.

* * *

"Alright, that takes care of everyone except the Overseer," Ambulon muttered as the three of them got rid of their three previous patients. "Which of you two want to do that? I'm not doing it because I was actually pretty fast and not wasting my time chatting it up with the patients or in some cases, _flirting_ with them," he directed that comment to First Aid, who flinched, "and actually did one extra."

"Uh, well, me and Lightstep agreed to meet up after I was done and I would like to see her right now…," First Aid told them.

"Fine, I'll do it," Ratchet muttered. "You two go and we'll examine the syringes tonight at nine."

"I was going to recommend First Aid to do it as punishment, but I guess that works," Ambulon agreed, causing First Aid to give a shock look before looking relieved.

"Thanks Ratchet. I'm going to go," First Aid announced, rushing off, much to Ambulon's discontent.

"That love-struck moron, flirting with a patient… alright Ratchet, have fun with the walking megaphone. I'm going to explore the facility a bit more," Ambulon informed him, walking out of the room and letting Siren in as well. "Ratchet will be treating you, Overseer," Ambulon told him as he walked out. Siren looked back briefly before turning back to Ratchet.

"Hello, Siren. Let's make this as painless as possible, for both of us," Ratchet told him as he got ready. "Please talk as little as possible. I don't want my audials to be destroyed."

"ALRIGHT!" Siren answered as he walked on over and took a seat on the table and showed off the left wrist.

"Thanks," Ratchet grumbled as he moved forward and brushed his wrist, revealing a straight, centered line. "Perfect," Ratchet muttered, as he got the syringe and began plunging it in.

"OW!"

*Snap!*

Ratchet arm moved in pain at the loud noise, covering his audials briefly before looking back at the wrist, showing the needle embedded in the wrist and Siren biting his mouth to keep from shouting out loud.

"Oh, frag," Ratchet muttered, looking at it. "Hold on, I'll get it out," he tried to keep the patient calm, snatching the forceps and carefully lowering it into the wound. "Don't yell," he ordered as he lowered the forceps into the wound and got the deeply embedded needle.

"HMMM!" Siren yelled not quite silently into his mouth as Ratchet extracted it. Ratchet moved quickly and grabbed another needle and uncapped it. He quickly jabbed it in and got a quick sample as Siren continued to scream not quite silently. He filled it up as quickly as he could and took it out, grabbing the gauze and quickly wrapping it around the wound.

"There. Sorry about that, Siren. I really am. Quiet to loud noises doesn't usually happen when you're doing something like this," Ratchet apologized to him. Siren breath in and out that would be exaggerated for almost everyone else.

"ERRRRRG…. I'M SORRY! IT'S MY FAULT!" he told Ratchet, shocking him.

"But, I was the one who-"

"NO, I'M THE ONE THAT SHOCKED YOU WITH MY GASP WHEN I SHOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO HANDLE IT! I'M SORRY!" he told Ratchet looking regretful.

"What, that's ridiculous. I'm the doctor. It's my-"

"NO, I CAUSED THIS AND I'M THE LEADER HERE! ALL THE BLAME IS ON ME!" he told him, rubbing his wrist sorely.

"That doesn't make sense!" Ratchet yelled.

"VERY LITTLE DO!" he told him. "YOU REQUEST ANYTHING ELSE FOR THE EXAMINATION?!"

"Uh, just a few questions," Ratchet told him, grabbing the syringe, writing Siren's name down, putting it with the other syringes and grabbing the datapad. "Okay, first question. How are you feeling? I imagine not so well," he questioned.

"ASIDE FROM THE WRIST?! JUST FINE!" Siren answered.

"Okay, to make this quick and quiet, use your good hand to tell which of these places you've been to," he requested, showing off the list. Siren did so quickly, marking the natural locations and diseased cities he's been to before handing it back. "Alright, what drugs have you taken?" he asked him.

"CURRENTLY, ANTI-DEPRESSANTS AND ANTI-STRESS MEDICINE!" he replied and Ratchet put that down.

"Not the first one to say that," he noticed. "And that's it."

"THANK YOU, RATCHET, AND I'M SORRY ABOUT CAUSING YOU STRESS!" Siren apologized, getting up and heading out.

"It wasn't your fault!" he shouted to him as Siren exited the room, leaving Ratchet by himself. He wondered silently about how odd the overseer was momentarily before he went ahead to clean the room.

* * *

"Alright, the last sample is in place," First Aid told everyone as he pushed the samples into a machine, including the three medics. "Now we just let them scan, right?"

"Yes, and they will point out any anomalies in the energon," Ambulon told him, sitting in a chair, in front of the machine, "adjusting for anything that would affect their energon when they were created, as a few samples have."

"Yes. It should be quick and easy," Ratchet agreed, also sitting in the chair at the machine. "Come take a seat."

"Thanks," First Aid said, taking a seat next to Ratchet.

"So, how did the meeting between you and Lightstep go?" Ratchet asked and he could practically feel Ambulon shifting in his seat in annoyance.

"It went well. We both enjoy each other's company. She works in the reactor room, making sure the air reactor runs well and technophages don't start forming and kill us all," he told them.

"Huh?" Ambulon asked, interested and well as Ratchet.

"Yeah, the reactor makes its own air that destroys technopathogens that could form or come in through cracks in the structure. We use the air in here and nothing else," he told them.

"Wow. Impressive," Ambulon muttered. "She sounds far too good for you."

"Yeah… she's pretty amazing and smart," First Aid said dreamily. "I think I love her."

"Which form of love?" Ratchet asked.

"With that longing look in his optics, I think we both know what he wants," Ambulon muttered, disgusted.

"Hey, why are you so against it?" First Aid asked.

"There's a line between patients and doctors for a reason, you simmering moron," Ambulon growled. "Try to keep it platonic, although I doubt you can."

"Oh, dear," Ratchet muttered, wishing he was in not in the middle of these two.

"Look, there's something between us and you can't stop it," First Aid rebuked.

"After one day of talking? Wow, you naive idiot. If you weren't so good at being a doctor and if we weren't stuck in this scrapyard, I would get rid of you for someone who knows the rules, like Ratchet over here," Ambulon complimented him.

"Ratchet is nice enough that he would be totally alright about this, am I right Ratchet?" First Aid asked, wanting an answer.

"No, he would encourage the rules, like any sane person, correct Ratchet?" Ambulon asked him, looking for support. Ratchet glanced at the two, realizing that the two wanted an answer from him and he hated it. He knew that agreeing with one would alienate the other one slightly, which was something he didn't need. He hated having to make a choice.

"Well… I guess if it isn't hurting anyone, you should be allow a relationship with a patient," Ratchet answered, siding with First Aid.

"What?!" Ambulon yelled, not liking this.

"Yes, I knew you would understand!" First Aid shouted, excited.

"Hey, look, while I'm alright with it, I recommend you let either me or Ambulon be her physician, just so the doctor-patient line isn't crossed," Ratchet intervene, trying to stay on both of their good sides.

"Oh, sure, I guess we can do that. Can you do that, Ratchet?" First Aid asked.

"Over your superior?" Ambulon asked, insulted.

"What? I like him more," First Aid told him.

*Ding!*

"Results are in!" Ratchet shouted, thankful for it, clicking on it for the results. He examined each one quickly, reading each of them with a sense of relief until he reached the end.

"Good news: no one is infected with a life-threatening disease," Ratchet told the two medics.

"Good," Ambulon grumbled, getting up. "I'll be heading to my room for the night," he informed them, heading out grumbling.

"Well, thanks for the support Ratchet," First Aid said, getting up. "I'm going to go see Lightstep and tell her about seeing you as her physician." He exited the room, a spring in his step.

"Bye," Ratchet said, watching him go before burying his head in his hands. He really didn't want to engage in any conflict in the shelter and those two dragged him into one against his will. He got his head out and got up. He wanted to avoid any more conflict for the night and headed back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow, but building up.


	3. Ain't That A Kick In The Head

*1 Year Later*

"I hate parties," Ratchet muttered as he buffed himself up in his room.

 

"Hey, it's been a full year since we've been here. Siren wants us to have one to socialize and boost morale," Swindle told him, leaning against the wall.

"And I repeat, I don't like parties, but thanks for the buffer," he thanked him.

"You're lucky I have so much power with supplies here," the merchant mentioned.

"I know," Ratchet murmured as he laid the buffer by the side on his berth. "So, how do I look?" he asked, showing himself off.

"Looking good. Got a shine to you," Swindle complimented. "No one will purge their systems at the site of you."

"What a compliment," Ratchet sarcastically muttered as he walked to the door. "Let's go."

"Alright," Swindle agreed, following along as Ratchet opened the door and they both walked out, encountering a particularly groomed up individual, painted black and with a red face and blue optics. Everything about him seemed immaculate. "Ah, hello Momus," Swindle greeted him.

"Ah, hello Swindle" he greeted, shaking his hand, "and you, uh, I'm sorry, I don't believe we've properly introduced each other."

"Ratchet, and relax. I didn't recognize you much either," Ratchet told him.

"You think with a whole year in here with fifty people would include you two socializing at some point," Swindle remarked.

"Aside from healing people, I don't really socialize much," Ratchet remarked, looking at him. "Although I feel like I should know you."

"Oh, I'm a Senator, or I was," Momus muttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Senator? Don't you all live in the high-class part of Iacon?" Ratchet asked, confused. "Why do you live with people of lower classes?"

"I was created in Helex, so I've known what it's like to be poor," Momus told him. "Granted, I live in the most expensive part of Westside, but it's practically chump change compared to pretty much all of Periphery Heights."

"I've been there a lot for business transactions and a single block is worth more than Westside," Swindle told him.

"Damn. I could never get that rich," Ratchet murmured.

"Relax, most of the people there are complete assholes, especially the senators, no offense," Swindle apologized to Momus.

"It's fine. They are," he shrugged.

"Well, we've talked enough. I think we should go talk to the rest," Swindle told them. "You two might meet a few people you haven't met."

"Yes, that will be good," he agreed before shaking Ratchet's hand again. "Take care. I hope you make as many new friends as I do. I gotta move quickly." He ran away at a quick pace as Ratchet and Swindle started walking along, much more slowly.

"So, a senator?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah, he handles the administrations with a few other politically savvy individual," Swindle told them.

"Any more senators?"

"Not that I know of," Swindle answered. "Most of them live in Periphery with a few others living in the other districts. I even heard that one of them lives in the Dead End."

"Why would a senator live in that place? It's a place where the poorest of the poor live," Ratchet murmured.

"Yeah, I don't know. I've never met him," Swindle shrugged as they turned to the staircase to the atrium. "So, how was your first year here?" he asked.

"It was… okay," Ratchet murmured. "Could've been worst with the whole world a nuclear wasteland.

"Yeah, I imagine everyone outside is thinking that this is the worst year ever," Swindle gave a forced chuckled. "So many people."

"How was it for you?" Ratchet asked.

"Got a nice job. Isn't much work. Made friends there. It's almost enough to forget the world died last year," he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah… better than me. There's a bit of a divide between Ambulon and First Aid, and I'm caught all up in the middle of it. I try to make time for both while their relationship rusts away into nothing."

"Damn. Glad I'm not taking place in that conflict," Swindle laughed, slightly more genuine this time.

"You should be," Ratchet grumbled. "First Aid's been spending the most time with Lightstep while Ambulon spends most of his time by himself."

"Will he be around for the party?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe," he shrugged as they climbed the stairs. "Could go either way."

"Maybe I'll go fetch him for you if you want me to if he isn't there," Swindle offered. "I can talk people into doing things they don't want to do."

"If you want," he shrugged as they opened the door to the atrium. Inside, a large amount of people were already gathered and the atrium lights were dimmed a little bit. The people were drinking and socializing, most with a smile on their face, glad to have something to take their minds off things.

"Ah, look at all those smiles. Feels like home," Swindle noted.

"We are, technically, home," Ratchet pointed out to him.

"Oh, yeah… Whatever," he shrugged before walking off. "Go chat up some people Ratchet. You'll feel better." He walked on over to a small group and included himself, leaving Ratchet by himself. Ratchet glanced at him before walking over and a seat by himself at a table. He didn't do soirees and would rather just let any of the people come to him.

"Hmph. Good to see someone else trying to stay by themselves," he heard someone grumble and turned to see Bludgeon standing there, looking as intimidating as ever.

"Bludgeon… I thought you would stay inside your room," Ratchet said, surprised.

"I was ordered to watch over everyone and make sure everything goes well," he grumbled, taking a seat that gave him the best view of everyone. "I would rather tend to the garden than this."

"Oh, I passed by it earlier and the garden is coming along very nicely. You and the other gardeners are very good at it," he complimented.

"It's nothing," he brushed off. "It's very easy and calming. It and breaking up fights are good ways of getting rid of anger. That and fighting in general. People don't know that I want to be left alone."

"Yeah, I've had a bunch of people in the med-bay there because of you," Ratchet told him.

"Apologies for overworking you."

"No problem. Gets me something to do," Ratchet thanked him.

"I'll take that as encouragement to fight more," he growled.

"Uh, no, gardening is a very healthy hobby. Keep it up," he asked of him.

"It depends on everyone else here," he murmured. "Keep them in line, I won't break them."

"I don't have much influence here," he said, rubbing the side of his neck. "Just try and tolerate them more."

"I don't tolerate idiocy," Bludgeon murmured, looking at a couple who looked to be arguing about something, which caught Ratchet's attention too. That gave him an idea.

"How about you prevent more fights before they start?" Ratchet asked, trying to give him advice.

"I meditate. Not mediate," Bludgeon told him.

"Well, you have plenty of time to practice. Nothing wrong with taking a shot," he recommended to him.

"Maybe…. Alright," Bludgeon muttered, getting up. "I'll just intimidate them into giving up." He walked on over to the couple, leaving Ratchet by himself again. He looked around and noticed several people with cubes of energon and decided that he needed one too. Something to do when no one was talking to him. He got up and looked around, seeing a table filled with energon. He walked over to the table and quickly grabbed one glass and headed over to his seat, taking a seat and trying to ignore everyone.

"Heeeey!" a voice said as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him closer, almost making him spill his drink. He recognized the drawl from the voice that it could only be Lugnutz and was confirmed when his motorcycle frame got in sight by him taking a seat next to him. He was smiling, obvious enjoying himself, which was surprising, until Ratchet smelled high-grade and barbiturates from Lugnutz and he understood why he was having such a good time. Ratchet smelled his glass of energon and didn't smell high-grade not barbiturates in it so he must've gotten it from another source. "How's it hanging?"

"I'm just sitting here, enjoying the smiles," he told him. "You are definitely enjoying yourself."

"Oh, totally," he said, leaning against him and increasing the stench entering Ratchet's olfactory systems, causing him to grimaced.

"You have a… unsatisfying smell," Ratchet murmured.

"Oh, sorry," Lugnutz muttered, moving back and leaning against the table instead. "I'm feeling really good."

"Yeah, I can-"

"Let me go!" a voice yelled and Ratchet turned to see Bludgeon carrying Pyrobyte out of the room, who was obviously struggling against him. He watched this scene until Bludgeon left the room and the door closed.

"Oh, wow, he's not very well," Lugnutz muttered after that happened. "He needs to calm down."

"That's… unlikely. Damn split-spark twins," Ratchet murmured.

"Oh, yeah," he murmured. "That sucks…."

"That's putting it lightly," Ratchet murmured.

"Oh, you're a medic," a voice asked and Ratchet turned to see Tidalshock, his face bleeding and some glass stuck in his face.

"You need one, I'm guessing," Ratchet determined.

"Yeah. That mech was pretty violent," he muttered, rubbing his face to comfort it and pushing glass deeper in, causing him to gasp a bit in pain.

"Dude, that wasn't smart," Lugnutz murmured, taking a drink of his high-grade.

"Yeah… maybe not," he agreed, reaching to a piece of glass and poking it.

"Didn't you learn the first time," Ratchet asked, standing up with a drink in his hand. "Follow me. We'll head to the Med-Bay."

"Don't worry about it," Ambulon said, coming up behind him. "I'll take care of it. I don't want to be here anyway."

"Oh, uh, okay," Ratchet agreed, sitting back down while Ambulon grabbed Tidalshock by the arm and lead him out of the room. Ratchet watched him go before turning back to Lugnutz. "That was weird." he murmured, drinking his glass again.

"So weird," Lugnutz agreed.

"He's been like this for a while," a deep voice said as Treads took a seat, taking up a whole side of the table. "He's been so morose since we've heard about the bomb. I try cheering him up, but he doesn't respond very well. Just keeps being moody." He leaned against the table with his elbow, his head in his hands, sighing sadly.

"Well, to be fair, the world is still bathed in nuclear fire," Ratchet shrugged. "He might be thinking about it more than the rest of us."

"Yeah… he had a lot of family up top. I didn't have anyone to really care about except him, so I handle it alright. Ugh," he moaned. "I just want to punch the melancholy from him."

"I… don't think you can do that," Ratchet told him.

"Can't help thinking like that. I'm a tank. We specialize in punching holes into objects like hole-puncher factories," he told them.

"Yeah… right," he agreed, not exactly sure how to deal with him.

"You know, I'm going to see if I can punch it out of him," Treads said, standing up.

"Go for it, dude," Lugnutz encouraged.

"Yes, go for- wait, what?" Ratchet asked, glaring at Lugnutz.

"Yeah, I can do it! I can break anything!" he yelled as he rushed out of the room and left Ratchet glaring at where he once was before fixing it back to Lugnutz.

"Anything happens, I blame you," he seethed.

"Cool, bro," he said before drinking more of his glass.

"Now, where did you get the drugs?" Ratchet asked.

"Drugs?" Lugnutz questioned.

"The barbiturates in your high-grade. Only medics have access to those," Ratchet accused.

"Oh," he murmured, thinking about it hard. "I… I don't know. Can't think straight," he murmured, rubbing his head.

"Won't tell me? Fine. I'll figure it out by myself," Ratchet murmured, taking another drink of his glass.

"Cool. I hate remembering faces," Lugnutz agreed, drinking some more.

"Hmph…," Ratchet hummed as he relaxed and drank some more. Okay, this could've been going better, but it wasn't that bad yet. At most, it was mildly annoying.

"Hey, Ratchet," a femme voice said and Lightstep took a seat to his right. "How you doing?"

"Fine, Lightstep. I've examine the sample of your energon you gave me and its all fine," Ratchet told her.

"Oh, wonderful, but I just came here to chat to you and my fellow motorcycle friend who hasn't taken the time to properly introduce me to him," she said, indicating Lugnutz, who gave a thumbs up before talking.

"Lugnutz. I'm a courier. Still try to be one," he told her with a raise of his glass and drank it, finishing, slamming it on the table. "Damn, I need more."

"Lugnutz? That's an unusual name. I'm guessing you weren't name that upon creation," she suggested.

"My real name is just Lugnut, but I added the letter at the end to differentiate myself from another Lugnut a lot bigger than me, who insisted on being called that at all times. I got it legally changed to Lugnutz a while before I got here," he told her, leaning against the table heavily.

"That's interesting," she said with a warming smile before turning to Ratchet. "How about you, Ratchet. Know anybody with a similar name to yours?"

"Well, I know of a Ratchet in Ibex who's a racer. A racer visiting my office called Blurr told me that," he replied.

"Ooh, Ibex. Racing city of Cybertron," she murmured. "I've never visited there."

"Neither have I," he muttered. "Blurr was an out-of-towner and accidently broke his arm struts from falling a great height."

"Ouch," Lugnutz said in sympathy. "Broken arm struts are some of the worst."

"Yeah. It takes real force to break one strut, much less an entire arm," Ratchet commented. "From the height he fell from, he was lucky to escape with only a broken arm."

"Well, Lugnutz, as a courier, you must have a few tales. What are some of the more interesting things you've experience," Lightstep asked him.

"Well, nothing really. I usually stay out of trouble, although I do get a few odd jobs every now and then, sometimes illegal ones, like the one time I was hire to pass a relic gun from a hitbot to an historian. Scary dude, that hitbot. He came to me with energon still on him while I was in Helex and asked me to give this gun to an historian over here in Iacon. Considering he would've, you know, splatter my insides all over the walls if I refuse, I took it. Creepy fragger," Lugnutz shuddered.

"Huh, I must admit, never met a hitbot before. Did you do anything about him?" she asked.

"No, because he's scary and that historian paid me a crazy amount of cash for it to keep me quiet. I can't say no to cash, so I took it, of course," he shrugged.

"Don't blame you. I've worked on some… questionable people for a nice sum of shanix," Ratchet admitted.

"Ratchet, I didn't expect that from you," Lightstep muttered, shock.

"My profession takes a blind eye to a person's profession and only concentrates on saving lives. Every now and then, I get some bad people, like gangbangers, but they do pay quite a bit more than the average person to keep my silence and I would do so anyway, in the name of doctor/patient confidentiality, but I never tell them that," he explained himself.

"Huh, I honestly didn't expect this from either of you two. You both seem like such moral people," she muttered.

"I am moral. You don't see me killing people, do you? I fix people and that's it. No more and no less," he explained to her.

"I just transfer one object to another. You expect me to not get pay?" Lugnutz asked.

"Well, I just figure you two would get enough money by keeping it clean," she told them.

"It's clean," Ratchet insisted. "I'm only doing what my profession requires and that's healing and saving people's lives. If you have a problem with me saving people's lives, than you have a problem with the profession as a whole," he argued.

"No, I don't have a problem with doctors," Lightstep insisted.

"Exactly. Everyone deserves equal care under my watch, no matter what they do. It's something all doctors agree to."

"I… I'm sorry for saying that," Lightstep apologized.

"You didn't have to, but thanks," he nodded.

"Look, I don't like doing illegal things, but they pay more than most of the legal ones, and often times, refusing could lead to trouble down the line," Lugnutz told here, defending himself. "Couriers are only as useful as long as they are willing to travel and not ask many questions."

"Right… sorry to you too," Lightstep repeated to him.

"Its fine," he said, getting up. "I need more things to drink. I'll be back," he said, walking off.

"So," Ratchet murmured, "where did you work at before coming to this bunker?" he leaned in, interested.

"Oh, I worked for the government. I work at a facility in the Atacoma Desert dealing with experimental treatments for filters and the like. There are some compounds that could make the air or energon sources infected with viruses and the sort. We produce ways of countering it," she told him.

"Ah, interesting. You must be a very good scientist," Ratchet mentioned.

"Well, I certainly like to think so. I'm not the best, but I'm certainly competent," she replied with a smile.

"Competence can be a very valuable thing," Ratchet commented, smiling as well.

"Yeah…," she let off.

"So… about you and First Aid," Ratchet began.

"Still trying it out. There's certainly an attraction, but, you know… nuclear annihilation up top. Could be risky to do it," she told him. "Or, at least, I think so. He's a bit quick, but I want to take it slow."

"That's good. I rather you two work it out slowly than just jump the gun and regret it," Ratchet told them.

"I'm happy to see you agree with me," she replied with a smirk.

"Oh, frag," Lugnutz said as he returned and sat where he was with a cube in his hand... "How you two doing?"

"Just fine," Ratchet answered.

"Cool," he replied before drinking from his cube.

"Mine if I join?" a voice asked and Sunspot took a seat across from Ratchet, looking slightly nervous.

"We got room," Lugnutz slurred, holding his head up with his hand.

"Alright, fine, thanks," he gasped out, shaking his head with each word.

"Nervous?" Lightstep asked.

"Nah, I just… miss the outside," he told them. "I work on star charts and activities from other planets, meteors, and comets."

"You work on other planets from this planet. Couldn't you just take a trip to them?" she asked.

"They're one way. I would have to completely reconfigure my star charts to do that and they only allow a few people at a time to do so. There's also been a ban that many people don't know about that prevents people from leaving the planet," he told them.

"Ban?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah, like I said, it's not common, but it exists. I would've been off this planet to get away from the people that want to kill me if I could," he told them.

"Huh, now why did they do that?" Lightstep asked. "They don't allow many people out in the first place and any that do are not allow to come back."

"Xenophobic fraggards," Lugnutz muttered.

"Anyway, why don't they allow a way out?" she asked.

"Maybe there was such a low amount of people leaving the planet that they decided to just get rid of space travel altogether," Ratchet recommended.

"Could be, but it sounds too simple, not to sound like a conspiracy theorist," Sunspot rejected.

"Why does it even matter?" Lugnutz asked. "All the spaceports are probably bombed to the pits, so they don't matter."

"I know, but it's still suspicious," Sunspot muttered.

"I repeat, does it matter?" Lugnutz asked, yawning.

"I need something to take my mind off the stars! I know this is pointless, but I need to talk about inane BS," he told him, grasping his head. "I miss the stars… and I think I'm getting claustrophobic in here."

"If you're getting claustrophobic, talk to me about it. I can get you some anti-anxiety medicine," Ratchet told him.

"I need a therapist. Not drugs," he muttered.

"We don't have therapists. Only doctors," Ratchet told him.

"That… so… stupid," Sunspot muttered. "I should've stayed up top. I could at least see stars."

"Ratchet," Lugnutz whispered to him, "I think he's unhinged."

"No kidding," Ratchet murmured, standing up. "Sunspot, followed me. I think you need to turn in for the night."

"Yeah… yeah, maybe," he agreed standing up. "Being by myself would get me away from everyone. I hate crowds too, did I forget to mention?"

"…Please, follow me," Ratchet murmured, annoyed. Sunspot nodded and walked closely to him.

"Lugnutz and Lightstep, go talk to other people. I'm sure they'll like to talk to you two," Ratchet recommended to them.

"Sure," Lightstep agreed with a smile. "There's bound to be a few people who are interesting."

"I'll try," Lugnutz murmured, putting his head on the table, "or I may take a nap."

"Good," Ratchet said as him and Sunspot left the table and headed out of the room. The two headed down the stairs. "Listen, we don't have a therapist. We need to give you some drugs."

"I don't want to. I'll get addicted to them," he said, rubbing his wrists.

"It takes a lot to be addicted to drugs, especially medical ones. We've made it so that it isn't very addicting and you don't have to be dependent on it," Ratchet tried to convince.

"Look, can this wait until tomorrow. I'm just going to take a few sleeping medicine and just go out," he told him.

"You're taking sleeping medication? That's just as addictive, you moron," Ratchet chastised.

"Exactly. I don't want too," he muttered.

"Urg… sleep tonight and come to me tomorrow. I'm officially your doctor and you're going to see me once every week," Ratchet ordered.

"What, but I'm fine… enough," he said, the two reaching the intersection.

"No, you're not. You're going to grow resistance to it and take more and more until your practically tripping on it at all times and eventually overdose," he explained what would happen to him. He stopped and looked directly into his optics. "Now tell me, do you want to overdose or do you want to live?" Sunspot looked away and nervously scratch at the back of his head.

"Uh, I-I don't know," Sunspot murmured, unsure. Ratchet sighed and got blunter.

"Look, as a doctor, I won't let this behavior continued. There are two ways to do this, quietly or loudly. Quietly is the two of us talking it out and me giving you recommendations and the like. Loudly is me restraining you to the bed with a guard to watch over you and a heavily controlled schedule. Now, which sounds better to you?" Ratchet asked. Sunspot optics brighten and he wave his hands in appeasement.

"Hey, you have a point," he chuckled. "I'll go along with it."

"Good of you to see things my way," Ratchet murmured as he began walking again, Sunspot following him. "I know that sounded harsh, but addiction can be hard to get rid of if you don't deal with it early on."

"Yeah… I know," he muttered.

"Right… here's your room," Ratchet said, standing at his door.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, opening it. "We'll talk tomorrow." He entered it and closed it quickly. Ratchet stared at it before walking off.

* * *

*10 Years Later*

"What do you want to show me?" Ratchet asked Swindle as he entered his room near the dead of night, almost everyone else turned in for the night.

"Trust me, this makes no sense," Swindle told him as he headed to his locker and pulled it back. Ratchet watched him, unsure of what this was about. Look," he said, pointing to the corner where a button was, which interested Ratchet. Swindle pushed it and the center of the back wall was pulled up, showing off a ladder heading down.

"What the... where does that lead?" Ratchet asked.

"I already checked and it leads to the storage room behind the locked door," Swindle told him.

"Seriously?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes, and I highly doubt my room is the only one that has this," he told him. "Let's check yours out."

"Alright. Let's check if you're right," Ratchet agreed as Swindle pushed the button closed the door and headed on out. They entered Ratchet's room and went to the locker, where Ratchet pulled it open, revealing a button right there as well. "Damn…," Ratchet murmured, pushing the button. The door opened and a hallway was in front of him. Ratchet stared at it with an open mouth before speaking. "Okay, so if everyone's room has a secret entrance, that means there are fifty of them… that's _insane_."

"I know," Swindle agreed, closing the door to the room and locking it. "Let's see where this go."

"What, but-"

"Come on, let's go!" he shouted pushing him through the door, causing him to stumble, but he corrected himself and glared at him.

"Don't push me," he growled before moving forward. He moved forward to the end where a ladder to the right was, going up. Ratchet held on to it and climbed up it, Swindle right behind him, although both of them were struggling a bit.

"My wide body is not made for this," Swindle growled.

"I'm not that wide, but this is still a pain to climb," Ratchet growled as they reached the top and reached another hallway. The two walked forward to the end and hanged right. The two walked forward until they reached another ladder heading down. "I hate the people who design this," Ratchet complained with assent from Swindle as they climbed it down until they reached the bottom. A short hallway led to a moveable ladder to the side and a hatch leading down. "Really hate them," he muttered as he opened the hatch, revealing a dark room. "Damn, hard to see."

"Use your Pipbot's flashlight," Swindle told him.

"Flashlight?" Ratchet asked.

"Eleven years and you haven't use the flashlight once?" Swindle asked, glaring at him unbelievably.

"Um… yes," Ratchet murmured, embarrassed.

"Oh by Primus… the button on the top of the screen. Push it," he ordered him. Ratchet nodded and pressed it, letting off a short range light that cover the entire area a few feet ahead of him.

"Alright, sending the ladder down," Ratchet said, grabbing the ladder and examining it to see a protrusion at the top to place at the top of the hatch. Ratchet sent it down until the protrusion and let go, letting it hang in the air at a right angle. "Okay, let's head down," he said heading down and reached the bottom with Swindle loudly landing beside him. The room wasn't very big, so they were squished together rather embarrassingly. There was also a door out.

"Okay, jars, vials… this place is familiar," Swindle murmured.

"Yeah… it is," Ratchet murmured before glaring down at him. "Maybe you can go back up."

"No. Shut up. You do it! I'm too wide to keep doing it."

"What are you getting so blown up about?"

"Because you need to get fragged!"

*Swoosh*

The door opened, showing off Tacklebolt, staring at them oddly with a mop in his hand. The two in the closet stared at the awkward position they were in and back to him.

"Okay, let's set the record straight. We weren't doing anything in here," Swindle immediately said.

"Yes, that's correct. We were merely exploring," Ratchet told him.

"Really? Because that was… a lot of sexual comments," he said, examining them closely. "I must say, I don't get it why you two are together, but I should've seen it in hindsight."

"No!" they both shouted, both of them trying to get out of them and stumbled out of the room, Swindle on top of Ratchet. Tacklebolt stared at the struggling 'couple,' actively struggling against each other. He knew, from the way they were acting, it was secret romantic rendezvous. It was kind of romantic, although he would pick somewhere besides the closet. They could do some medical play in here. The two finally separated and stood up, brushing themselves off and stand at attention, trying to act like it didn't happen.

"Alright, sorry for interrupting your janitorial duties," Swindle apologized.

"As am I," Ratchet nodded.

"Nah, it's no problem. You two are in love," he said with a coy smile, leaning against the broom.

"No we're not!" they both shouted in unison.

"Uh-huh… yep!" he said with a chuckle before he looked behind them and his face scrounge up in confusion. "Why is there a secret compartment in their?" he asked, looking at it carefully. The 'couple' looked at each other before Ratchet answered.

"Well… Swindle found out that all the rooms had secret entrances leading to other places in the facility," Ratchet told him.

"What… seriously?" he asked, straightening up.

"Yeah, I was just looking around the room when I found a button behind the locker. It opens a door that could lead anywhere in the facility," Swindle told him.

"Wow… that's nuts," he said, rubbing his head.

"It's the truth," Swindle answered. "It's strange that these were built, but here's the proof."

"So… what's the point of it?" he asked.

"I… have no idea," he answered, scratching his chin. "It's certainly strange."

"Huh… well, at least it tells me how you two made it to your secret love spot," he poked fun at them, causing the two of them to continue seething.

"We're not dating!"

* * *

*100 Years Later*

Ratchet laid on his berth, insufferably bored. 111 years of being in the place was taking its toll on him. He really wanted out. Insanity was setting in for him, doing the same thing over and over again, little to no change… it was insufferable. They had taken radiation readings from outside and still found them so high, that stepping out would lead to a full systems shut down in minutes. He was stuck doing the same thing, day by day by day. If it wasn't for the fact that the date changed, he would think that he was in a groundhog's day loop.

*Knock Knock Knock*

Ratchet stared at the door and sighed. It was something to break up the monotony. He might as well open it. He got up and walked on over to it, the person still knocking on it. Ratchet walked like he was going through sludge, slowly and sloppily. He reached the door and opened it, showing off Barricade, standing there with his arms crossed, tapping his finger on his arm and his foot against the floor. "Hello, Barricade," Ratchet murmured, surprised. He didn't talk to him much.

"We have a problem. Momus is having a seizure in the Med-Bay and we can't find First Aid and Ambulon," Barricade immediately told him.

"What?!" Ratchet murmured, immediately moving down the hall with Barricade following behind him.

"Momus entered the room with Sunspot and used a medicine without consulting one of you," he told him.

"Dammit," Ratchet murmured as they quickly traversed the facility and to the Med-Bay, where Sunspot was doing his best to keep Momus still. Ratchet came on over and looked at him. "Alright, tell me what happen."

"I thought I could do it…," Sunspot muttered guiltily. "I saw you grabbing things from there and, I thought I could do it."

"What does that mean?" Ratchet questioned him.

"Look, I tried to get him some sleeping medicine, but when he injected himself with it, he started having a seizure," he told him.

"Seizures are not common among us," Barricade noted. "This has to be something unusual."

"It is rare for people to suffer from it, but it still happens. Has Momus ever taken sleeping medicine before?" Ratchet asked Sunspot.

"Uh. I don't think so. He said he wanted to sleep more and he figured that he would use the sleeping medicine to do that," he told him.

"Okay, I think I may understand what's going on," Ratchet said, heading over to a cabinet and grabbing a vial of yellow liquid. He grabbed a syringe and sucked up a lot of the liquid before grabbing some powder and coming back to Momus. "Keep his head still so I can inject it into his neck," Ratchet told him and him, along with Barricade, held on to his upper half to keep it from moving. Ratchet used the powder and brushed it against the left side of his neck. Revealing a blue line near the center. Ratchet grabbed the syringe and slowly inserted it into the blue line, the two keeping him still, as it pierced the neck cable and he slowly injected the contents into the neck. Momus kept shaking for a little while longer before he stopped, resting quietly.

"Holy… what was wrong with him?" Sunspot asked.

"Allergic reaction. Sleeping medicine has a chemical called onesu that can react violently in some people's sparks. Roughly 1 for every 100,000 cybertronians, with studies indicating that they bunched up at Helex. It hits the sparks and immediately causes massive fluctuations and causes grand mal seizures," Ratchet told them. "It's a doctor's job to check them to make sure it doesn't react violently when it enters the energon stream. Not every doctor has colvert, a drug to slow spark fluctuations."

"Oh…," Sunspot murmured, rubbing the side of his neck.

"Yes. 'Oh.' A good reason to consult with me before taking a drug you might be allergic too!" Ratchet yelled at him.

"I'm sorry. It was an accident," he tried to defend himself.

"Let this be a lesson to you, don't use any of the medicine without a doctor's supervision. His spark could've burst and he would've been dead," he laid it onto him.

"I'm sorry! I just thought it would be simply getting it and injecting it. I didn't know people could be allergic to it!" he justified it.

"Everyone's spark is unique enough to make each person's energonstream different and react to different things. Don't do it again," he said, looking over Momus. "He should probably spend the night here in case any unintended side effects happen."

"Yeah… alright," Sunspot agreed. "I… I… I'll go to my room. I screwed up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said walking out of the room, leaving Barricade behind.

"Primus, he's a giant idiot at anything not astronomy related," Barricade muttered as he walked on over and looked Momus over. "Almost got our ex-senator here killed."

"Yeah… that wasn't very smart of him," Ratchet said as he started putting the stuff up.

"Well, at least his stupidity is adding some excitement to this monotony," he muttered.

"I feel the same," the doctor agreed, putting the powder and colvert up before turning to see Barricade looking Momus over.

"111 years of doing the same thing over and over again… had no idea how dull it could get."

"Hmm-hmm," Ratchet murmured as he grabbed a datapad and started filling information in on Momus for his stay.

"Yeah… I've taken to bashing my head against my room's wall to break the monotony," he said, rubbing his head, which Ratchet noticed had a dent in the forehead.

"Want me to check that out?" Ratchet asked.

"Nah, I just need a buffer and I'm good," he said, crossing his arms again. "I've overused my first two, so I need to ask Swindle for a new one."

"You have been using it a lot," he noticed.

"Yeah, I have," Barricade muttered. "I want to get out, but the radiation will kill me. It really is insufferable."

"How wonderful," Ratchet muttered sarcastically.

"Yes, it is…," Barricade muttered.

*Whoosh*

The door opened and the two turned to see Pyrobyte walked in with slumped shoulders. "What do you want?" Barricade asked. "Came to start another fight?"

"Nah, I just… need to take some anti-depressants," he said, rubbing a hand against his shoulders. "These past few years haven't been very good to me."

"Nor has your attitude been good for me," Barricade muttered before turning to Ratchet. "Find him some anti-depressants. It may make him less violent."

"Fine. I just got done filling out Momus's form," Ratchet agreed, putting the file up and getting the anti-depressants. Pyrobyte looked over Momus on the operating table, his face scrounged up.

"What happened to him?" Pyrobyte asked, sounding happy.

"Allergic reaction to sleeping medication. Have you taken anti-depressants before?" Ratchet asked, turning to him. "I'm having difficulty remembering what drugs you've taken."

"Uh, I've taken some while I've been here, I've been on and off for a while," he told him.

"Alright, then we don't have to test your body's energon," Ratchet said, coming on over with a jar and a box of disposable syringes. "I'm guessing you know how to get it done?"

"Of course," he said, grabbing each with of his hands. "Thank you," he said before heading out.

"Don't overdose," Ratchet told him as he left the room, leaving him with Barricade and Momus again.

"Right… I think I'll leave Momus in your capable hands," Barricade said with a nod. "I trust you'll be fine sticking with him until he's fine."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Ratchet said. "Taking care of a patient is a good way to break up the monotony."

"Alright. I'll go patrol the area," he said, heading out of the room and closing the door, leaving Ratchet alone with Momus. Ratchet stared at the door before looking over Momus. Who was recharging calmly, although his face was slightly stressed out. Ratchet sighed, went to a table, grabbed a datapad, and check the inventory.

* * *

*200 Years Later*

"What are you showing me?" Ratchet asked Lightstep in the reactor room. Around the room was Momus leaning against the wall, First Aid at Lightstep's side, Sunspot sitting on a chair, and a couple of scientists, the blue-and-white one named Handbrake and the purple-and-orange one was Lander. First Aid had his arm around Lightstep, which made sense, considering they were conjunx enduras now and have been for 157 years. Everyone decided to celebrate it, even Ambulon, although he was reluctant.

"Well, we just got the results from outside the door," she said cutely, showing off a datapad.

"And? Can we finally get out of this place?" Ratchet asked, impatient.

"Well… yes," she said showing it off. "It's finally clear out of the area, although there are still pockets of it around the area at small amounts," she told him.

"Yes!" Ratchet shouted with a clap of his hand and a large smile. "About time."

"No kidding," Momus agreed with a smile. "I think it's about time we get a look outside."

"It's bound to be horrible looking," Handbrake said. "The world got nuked to oblivion, in case you don't remember."

"It's better than being down here," he said, rubbing his hand together in anticipation. "We've been here for way too long."

"I know. It's awesome!" Lander agreed.

"Ugh… could be worst," Handbrake reluctantly agreed.

"It's going to be wonderful," First Aid said, leaning against Lightstep's shoulder.

"Aw, it will be," she agreed.

"Ugh, you two are too cute," Handbrake with a rolled of the optics.

"I can't wait to see the stars. It's been too long," Sunspot agreed.

"It will probably be hard to see. Might still be some toxic smoke around," Lightstep told him.

"I'll find a clear spot. Trust me," he told her.

"That's a good way to look at it," she agreed.

*Whoosh*

The door opened and Pyrobyte walked in, determined. Ratchet turned and looked at him. "Hey, Pyrobyte," he greeted. "We're finally getting out of here."

"Don't care," he muttered until he stood in front of Momus, whose smile had turned into a fearful gaze. Ratchet wondered what was wrong when he looked at Pyrobyte's hand and saw a pistol in his hand. Ratchet's face turn to confusion as did everyone else. That turned to fear once he pointed it at Momus's head. "I'm finally getting to kill you."

"Woah! Woah." Momus shouted, putting his hand up. "Hey, I don't know what I did, but put the gun down."

"Shut up!" he yelled, keeping it aimed at his head. When he did that, Lander slipped by him and made his way out of the door, probably to get one of the guards. Handbrake was inching closer, hoping to stop him.

"Look… what did I do? I never hurt you!" he told him, afraid.

"Look at me? Don't I look familiar? Just imagine if I was blue," he told him. Momus looked confuse until he looked at him more closely.

"Wait… you look like the person who worked at the cryolabs. The one who killed Sherma!" he realized.

"Yeah… you're the reason he got sent to prison!" he shouted, keeping it trained on him.

"He broke the law and killed my fellow Senator!" he shouted at him.

"It was an accident," he growled.

"He still cause someone to die. He had to be punished for it," he told him.

"He was going to get the minimum sentence until you stepped in and got him the maximum sentence. He would've been out of prison when the bomb's dropped if it wasn't for you. He could've got sent to one of the vaults!" he ranted at him. "You killed him. Now I'll kill you." Ratchet jaw dropped as he watched the scene. This wasn't happening, was it? But as he stood there as Pyrobyte prepared to kill him, he realized that this was real.

Something moved from the corner of his optics and he saw Handbrake rushed over and leapt onto Pyrobyte. He saw this and tried to fir, but was smashed into before he could push it and his aim was off when he fired.

*Crack*

"Gah!" Momus shouted as he grasped his chest and rolled away from the struggling couple, an energon stain on the wall. Ratchet moved quickly and went to the struggling duo while First Aid and Lightstep went to help Momus. Sunspot just stayed in his chair, unsure of what to do. Ratchet moved forward and held onto his shoulders as Handbrake grabbed for the gun. Pyrobyte reacted by thrusting his head back and smashing it into Ratchet's chin, causing him to let go and held onto it. He grunted, ignored the pain, and tried to help Handbrake.

*Crack Crack*

"Guah," he heard Handbrake as Pyrobyte got back up and aimed it at Ratchet. Handbrake was on the floor, covering his chest where two bullet holes were, both near the spark. He would probably die if he didn't get medical help quickly, but he was in no room to do so with Pyrobyte aiming the gun at him.

"Ratchet, you really shouldn't have help that fragger," he growled at him as he aimed the gun at him.

"In here!" he heard Lander shouted and Pyrobyte face lit up in fear. The guards were going to be packing as well. They would put a stop to him quickly unless…

Pyrobyte moved forward, keeping the gun trained on Ratchet, as he got behind him and grabbed him by the neck and held the gun against his head. Derve and Joor went in, guns drawn, and aimed in his and Ratchet's direction.

"Pyrobyte, let him go," Derve asked

"No! leave you scum," he said, pushing the gun against Ratchet's head even harder, causing him to have to tilt his head painfully.

"Where the frag did he get a gun?" Joor asked Derve. "He shouldn't have one."

"That doesn't matter right now," Derve said as he continued to talk to him. "What is it that you want?"

"To kill Momus," he shouted. Momus and the other two were hiding behind cover, tending to him while Sunspot still sat in the chair, having no idea what to do.

"Well, we can't allow that, can we," Joor said to him, trying to get a clear shot.

"Pyrobyte, just give up. You can't kill Momus, so just let us take you to a cell," he told him. Pyrobyte gritted his denta and thought things through. Momus was already injured and could've been suffering a fatal wound. A good doctor could save him. The best doctor was his hostage…

He smirked and took his gun off Ratchet's head. He walked to Ratchet's side, still keeping the gun on him, his hand around his neck, and the finger on the trigger. "You know, you might be right. Momus is already suffering from a severe wound, so he might die anyway. But just to make sure…," he moved the gun and placed it at his own head with Ratchet's head right next to him. Ratchet's gasped at his insanity. He was going to commit suicide and take Ratchet with him. The two guards had their jaws dropped, before they took aim, trying to stop him.

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

Ratchet's felt a sudden, sharp pain in the side of his head, his vision going black, and he collapsed to the ground.


	4. Dreamer's Disease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, Fanfiction isn't letting me on my account there because of a 503 error, so for a rare turn of events, Archive gets my chapter first.

Ratchet onlined to a haze. His field of vision was filled with so much static that he could hardly see what was in front of him, although it didn’t help that he was facedown. The ground below him felt so soft that it might’ve been nonexistent. Because of that, he moved his limbs to help him stand up and immediately groaned in pain as he did so, his joints crying out at him for daring to move. He gave up and continued to lay on his back at Primus knows where and try to remember what had happened to him. He remember meeting up with First Aid and everyone else at the Science Lab, they said they could… do something and then Pyrobyte entered the room and… also did something. He couldn’t quite get all the details. Since he wasn’t thinking straight, he tried getting up again, almost getting on his knees before his joints gave out and he collapsed to the floor again in pain. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hey! Calm down. Don’t rush it,” he heard a voice said and heard someone running up to get next to him. He saw the person in his field of view and tried to determine who it was, but the static in his vision was obscuring too much of them. “Are you alright?” the person asked in a distorted voice, most likely having to do with Ratchet’s own audio sensors not working properly. He felt the person move his arm around and wrapped it around the person’s shoulders and began pulling Ratchet up. Ratchet worked with the person, trying his hardest to move along with them, getting on his knees pretty easily. Getting on his feet was a bit harder, as he felt his ankle joints want to give out as he rose up, despite the other person giving all they got. Eventually, he was on his feet and he rested against the person’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Ratchet said in a ragged breathe as he tried to get a good look at his helper’s face. The static was still in his way, but it was dissipating quickly, and he could soon start seeing the person’s face, revealing itself to be a very familiar face. “Pyrobyte?” Ratchet asked.

“Hey, Ratchet. Good to see you remember me,” he greeted with a smile. Ratchet could see that he was a bit worse for wear, having a few dents, cuts, and rust marks, with one rather nasty one on the right side of his head, but was otherwise looking very good and healthy. Ratchet took this chance to look around. It appeared to be a rundown medical center’s lobby, seeing the walls painted a sterile white with chairs spread out and the surrounding covered with various things such as energon, grime, and explosive residue, with some of the walls chipping off or having holes and a part of the ceiling caved in, the pieces next to Ratchet. The only light from the room came from the flashlight on his pistol and, the windows in the front, and one light in the center.

“Where… *Cough Cough* …where are we?” Ratchet asked, his voice a bit hoarse, he realized. Some of the air must’ve been bad and rusted his voice box slightly.

“Periphery Heights Medical Center. Don’t you remember it? You’re very familiar with it,” he asked. Ratchet looked around, taking it in. The Octagonal shape of the room, the circular shape of the reception desk in the center, the high-quality desk and chairs, the multiple TVs and HVs… yeah, this was Periphery Heights Medical Center alright. It reeked of opulence.

“Yeah… sorry. It looks like a battle happened in here. Almost unrecognizable,” he muttered.

“It’s alright,” he said, looking around.

“Why… are we not in the bunker?” Ratchet asked. “Isn’t it deadly out here?”

“What, you don’t remember?”

“The last thing I remember… was Lightstep saying she had big news and I met with her in the Science Lab along with some others. She was about to give the big news and then… I can’t remember what she said. You entered and then… I can’t remember anything else after that,” Ratchet told him.

“Huh. That piece of the ceiling must’ve hit you in the head so hard, it done something to your memory banks. Lightstep said we could leave the bunker due to the low radiation levels and we could start sending exploratory units out. I came in to see why everyone was in the lab. Me and you got paired up,” he told him.

“Ah… makes sense,” Ratchet murmured as he rubbed his head and sure enough, there was a well-sized dent on the right side of his head. He looked over himself and saw that he too had cuts, dents, and rust spots all over his body. “Why are we here?”

“To get medical supplies, of course,” he told him. “Damn, you really got hit hard by the ceiling if you can’t even figure that out.”

“Right… stupid question,” Ratchet muttered as he pulled himself away from him and started standing up on his own. He wobbled a bit, but balanced himself easily. “There. I think I can walk.”

“Where’s your gun?” he asked.

“Gun?”

“Yeah. Radiation’s gone, but that doesn’t mean there are no threats,” he told him.

“Yeah… good point. Maybe it’s under that debris?” Ratchet recommended, pointing to the ceiling debris.

“Yeah… most likely,” he agreed, making his way over there and began searching. Ratchet stumbled over to the reception desk and leaned against it as he searched. Ratchet gave a sigh as he thought about what he said. It made sense, but it didn’t quite all gel. Why only send two in a group in unknown and possibly dangerous territory, especially when one of them was a medic whose only combat situations was target practice in an empty room with Swindle and a pistol. He isn’t some sort of hardcore soldier who could take on whole platoons of soldier.

“Are you the new doctor?” a new voice asked and Ratchet looked up to see someone who definitely wasn’t there before. He was a clean, pristine mech with white all around him except for black going down the center of his limbs and the center of his mouth and bright, white optics, with a datapad in one hand and his other on the computer in front of him. He spoke with an air of arrogance befitting of someone who lived in Periphery Heights. At least, he would be, if the place… wasn’t… destroyed.

Ratchet heard the sound many people talking and looked around to see a bunch of people around the area, some talking to the other receptionist, some standing around, some sitting in their chairs, and others entering and exiting the doors. The walls, floors, and ceiling were immaculate, sparkling under the incandescent lights. Nothing in the room looked like it had even a scratch on it. Needless to say, Ratchet was gob-smacked. “What the… how the,” he said, looking around, causing the receptionist to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ah, I see. You’re a patient, right?” he asked.

“Uh, no, no,” Ratchet replied, turning back to him. “I am a doctor and I’ve come to work for you.” If he was correct, he was probably relieving a memory. That happens when you hit your head on the ceiling. “Name’s Ratchet.”

“Let’s see,” he said, looking through his computer. “Ah, yes, here it is. From Eastside? How interesting. First the one from the Dead End and now you,” he said. He was eyeing him like he was some sort of alien.

“Uh… yes,” Ratchet answered.

“Damn… you must be really impressive with those hands and brain of yours if they want you to work here with such a lowly status,” he muttered, leaning into get a better look at him. Ratchet looked down at himself to find that most of the cuts, dents, and rust spots were gone, leaving only a small scrape on his left arm. “Well, you definitely look like you came from there. That scrape, the lack of shine to you, the dent in your head.” What? Ratchet felt the side of his head and felt the exact same dent there. The receptionist leaned back before inputting a couple of things in the computer and started walking out of the desk. “Follow me.” He walked to the door at the back and Ratchet followed along, not wanting to get left behind. He noticed that the model walked exactly like he was on a runway.

“What’s your name?” Ratchet asked, trying to remember it. He met him before, but he couldn’t quite remember where.

“The name is Couture,” he said. “Remember that. Or don’t. I always like saying my name,” he said, reading the datapad.

“Couture. Yeah, right,” Ratchet muttered, his identity coming to him. Arrogant bastard. Needed his ego skewered. Nothing unique about that. All the assholes in Periphery Heights needed that. He worked a side job as a model for advertisements.

“Perhaps you might remember me from my recent work modeling for Polyhep’s buffers,” he flaunted, confirming his thoughts. He didn’t turn to him, but Ratchet could tell by the shift of his head that he wanted validation.

“Oh, yeah. Thought I recognize you. You did very nice with that,” Ratchet said and he could see the barest hint of a smile on him as they opened the door and entered the hallway. It was a regular, expensive looking one with an intersection and doors on the sides leading to various check-up rooms. At the end of the hall was an elevator.

“I think I’ll like you,” he said and Ratchet only roll his optics. Someone like him saying they like you was inconsequential. Just pay someone like him a compliment and they’ll like you. He didn’t even considered Ratchet a friend. Just someone to give him an ego boost. Still, better to have allies than enemies.

“So, a model like you must hate something like this,” Ratchet muttered. He couldn’t quite remember much about him, but he probably hated doing this.

“Oh no, I love it. It involves my favorite action, talking,” he told him. “That and I’m actually a decent organizer. I can get a schedule sorted out quickly. ”

“Always useful skills for a receptionist,” Ratchet complimented.

“Indeed,” he said as they crossed the intersection. “How many years have you had?”

“40,000,” Ratchet told him.

“Experienced. Good. People new to their jobs are always a bane,” he scoffed, putting his datapad up. “Now, just to make sure, you didn’t bribe anyone to giving you this job, right?”

“No, of course not! How dare you insinuate that,” Ratchet growled.

“Well, you’ll be able to soon,” he said, turning to him with a wide, beautiful smile that only a model could give. “Trust me, once the money rolls in, make use of it. You have it for a reason.”

“Good to know.”

“Either that, or use it to pay Knock Out for a makeover. I’m sure he could work wonders on your frame,” he said, looking him over. “You could use some trimming and maybe some new legs, but not those hands. They do look immaculate on you.”

“I’m fine. I need these to save lives,” he answered, insulted. “Thanks for recognizing the usefulness of the hands.”

“Shame. The rest of you could look as good as those hands.” They reached the door and he pushed it, opening the doors. The two entered the wide elevator and he pushed the button to the top floor. “Administration,” he answered as the door closed. He waited for the elevator to start moving, but didn’t hear it move. “If you’re listening for the elevator, you can’t. It’s silent.”

“Ah, yes. Very good,” Ratchet murmured, a bit embarrassed.

“Yeah, travels fast and silently. Such a wonderful thing,” he agreed. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the top of the building. “Listen, considering where you’re from, expect them to give you a hard time. Don’t do anything stupid.” Ratchet looked over at him and nodded.

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Its common sense,” he said as the elevator opened and a light shone in Ratchet’s face. He turned to see Pyrobyte looking at him with his mouth opened in confusion.

“What the frag is wrong with you?” he asked. “You just walked off into the dark by yourself and made your way to the elevator.”

“Um…,” Ratchet muttered, looking around to see the elevator was damaged and dirty and the hallway was so dark that he couldn’t see anywhere.

“Are you okay?” Pyrobyte asked. Ratchet knew he wasn’t, but it wasn’t hurting him yet.

“Yes, I’m fine. Did you find my gun?” Ratchet questioned.

“Yeah… here,” he said, withdrawing the gun and handing it to Ratchet. He grabbed it and turned the flashlight on, allowing another light source for them. “Alright, now let’s look through these rooms. We should be able to find items to use here,” he said as he moved to let Ratchet through. He did so, stepping out into the dark hallway and walked through it with Pyrobyte at his side.

“So, how many people have we encountered since stepping outside?” Ratchet asked.

“None so far. No sign of life anywhere around us, which we kind of expected. We’ve found scraps of bodies, but that’s it,” he told him as they walked down the hall to the intersection. “Do you know where the stairs are?”

“Yeah, should be over there,” he said, pointing his gun to the left, “and over there,” he added, pointing to the right, which was blocked off halfway through the hallway with debris. “That way won’t work.”

“Obviously,” Pyrobyte scoffed. “So, you think the bottom floor will have anything worth taking?”

“Well, we didn’t bring any bag with us, did we?” Ratchet asked. He shook his head no. “Then if we want to take the most valuable stuff with us, we have to go up the stairs to the… third floor. I think that’s where the surgery department is.”

“Alright, to the stairs then,” he said, walking down the unobstructed hallway, Ratchet at his side. The two walked slowly, walking over any debris that happened to be in their way. The two arrived at the door and opened it manually, due to the power being out. Pyrobyte jerked it opened and the two began walking up the stairs. They got to the second floor without a hitch, but the third floor was blocked off by a collapse stairway from the fourth floor.

“Alright. Slight complication. We’ll have to cross the second floor to the other set of stairs,” Ratchet told him.

“What’s on the second floor?” Pyrobyte asked as they made their way down.

“Offices and the coroner for dead patients,” Ratchet told him.

“There might be something there for us,” Pyrobyte muttered. “Let’s take a look.”

“Alright. I’ll take the morgue and you take the offices,” he ordered.

“Alright. Be careful,” Pyrobyte said as they entered the second floor and separated, Pyrobyte going right for the offices and Ratchet going left for the morgue. He entered the wide doors and began looking around. The room had a bunch of drawers for bodies and an autopsy table in the center, with an island off to the side with cabinets of chemicals, tubes, jars, and other such items for autopsy. The place was dusty and was in shambles, with the walls and ceiling peeling off in decay and discolored. Ratchet moved quickly to the island and began searching around the area. He found a few stimpaks in the drawers as well as a bag of medical tools that he could use later.

“Hey, get over here,” a voice said and Ratchet halted and looked around. Once again, the place looked better, although the place wasn’t as spic and span as the lobby considering it was the morgue. It didn’t have to look pretty. He turned around to see a black colored bot with red optics looking over a dead body on the autopsy table. Ratchet looked around nervously before walking over and looking down at the body. The body in front of him was a yellow-blue-and-black bot with his chest opened up with a retractor for him to look at his organs. “I know this the first patient you lost here, but don’t back out like a coward.”

“I’m sorry, uh…,” Ratchet stumbled, not remembering who he was.

“Flatline,” he muttered before he pointed out the dead body’s spark. “He suffered from a zero point. You had no chance of saving him. Once he was in the coma, nobody in the whole world could.”

“Zero point…,” Ratchet muttered. “Those are rare.”

“Extremely rare. One in every 100,000 Cybertronians suffer from it. It’s virtually impossible to detect and by then, it doesn’t matter. You might as well get the pede tag ready,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, um, I’m fine,” Ratchet muttered.

“The first patient you lose is always the hardest,” Flatline said.

“He’s not my first,” Ratchet immediately answered.

“He is in this hospital. Every hospital feels like a different experience," he said as he pulled the retractor out and began closing the body, grabbing a welder and piecing it back together. “So, are you enjoying your time here?” he asked and Ratchet was momentarily caught off guard. He didn’t seem like one for small talk.

“Uh, yeah, it’s fine,” Ratchet muttered.

“Really? Because you don’t fit very well here,” he muttered. “You’re so much different from the other people working here. You’re like me. A lower-ranking person in a higher living place. We’re out of place here.”

“Yes… we are,” Ratchet muttered, crossing his arms and pondering it. “We were both picked to be here because we’re exceptional in our chosen profession.”

“You, maybe. Me? They just need a placeholder and the rich people here don’t like looking through a dead body. They think it’s useless and beneath them. Hmph,” he muttered as he finished and placed the welder to the side and walked on over to a slab and opened it, a cloud of cold air coming out of it. “Help me move the body. Grab the legs,” he said as he moved back and grabbed the shoulders. Ratchet nodded and grabbed the body by his ankles. “1, 2, 3, let’s go.” They both pulled and quickly moved the body to the slab and placed it roughly on it. He closed it and went to a datapad at the autopsy table and began inserting information in it.

“So, with a name like Flatline, it sounds like you were made for this job,” Ratchet said, walking over to him.

“In a way. That’s just the natural pessimism of living in the Dead End,” he told him, not taking his attention.

“What’s it like, being created in the poorest section and having a job in the highest section?” Ratchet asked.

“Nothing special. Just a much higher paycheck and a different set of psychosis: narcissism,” he told him, finished with his datapad and looking back up at him. “Where are you from?”

“Eastside,” Ratchet answered immediately.

“The most middle-of-the-road of the districts. You must be an anomaly there in terms of talent with your hands,” he said, looking at his hands.

“That is my most liked feature. Even Couture likes it,” Ratchet told him.

“Hmm, I was right,” he muttered as he started walking for the door. “Your hands are an anomaly.”

“And you think you’re a placeholder.” Ratchet muttered, walking next to him.

“It’s just a fact of my life,” he said as he opened the door.

“What have you found?” Pyrobyte asked as he left the offices. Ratchet looked at him and then back where Flatline once was.

“Uh, well… I found stimpaks,” Ratchet answered, walking back over to him. “You?”

“I found some shanix and a crummy pistol. Looked like it could work,” he told him.

“Good job. I got some stimpaks and that’s it” Ratchet complimented as he looked around. “There’s the stairs. Let’s keep going up.” He said, nodded his head at the door to the stairs.

“Alright,” Pyrobyte agreed and the two of them moved to the door and entered the staircase. They entered the dark area and began climbing up the stairs swiftly to the third floor. Ratchet felt slightly unnerved, trying to figure out why his mind was so jumbled up and these constant hallucinations that popped up and changed with how he reacted to it. He must admit, Pyrobyte was unusually friendly. He started out friendly, but quickly become one of the more sullen people there. Maybe fresh radioactive air was all he needed to brighten up.

The two entered the next area and found a bunch of intersecting hallways with surgical rooms. The area was just like the other floors, decaying and coming apart. As the two walked, they felt the floor slightly shift a bit under their feet, meaning that it might come apart sometime soon. “We should be quick,” Ratchet recommended.

“I agree. Let’s split up. You take left and I’ll take the right,” Pyrobyte said as he went off to search the area. Ratchet entered the closest room and began looking through the room, finding some med-x in there. The casing wasn’t broken, so they were likely still good and Ratchet store them in the pockets of his hip’s metal plating. He searched at the back and found another bag of doctor’s tools and brought that with him as well. The remaining surgical rooms went quickly and he found some more med-x and stimpaks to add to his inventory and nothing else.

After that, he arrived at the last room and opened it into a resting room for surgeons to relax after surgery. The cushy chairs were molded and looked ready to collapse if anyone took a seat on them. The dispenser for energon was completely empty, needing to be restock. He could see a table at the back where people can play holographic games against each other. Ratchet could already guessed that nothing was going to be found here, but he looked around anyway, just to be sure. Not searching every bit of it would be bad because you might miss something important. Searching through the chairs yielded nothing important except some chump change stuck in the seats. The energon dispenser yielded similar results, having nothing inside it and with nothing around it. He checked the table and looked around it and once again found nothing. Ratchet gave a disappointed huff and leaned against the table. Overall, nothing important. Scavenging in the post-apocalypse world was tiresome.

“Why are you messing around with that?” he heard someone asked and turned to see a red bot with a white secondary colors on him and red optics. His design was very fashionable, designed to call attention to every part of him. Even though Ratchet hadn’t talk to most of the people at this hospital in a long time, he could instantly put a name to him.

“Nothing, Knock Out,” Ratchet answered, walking away from the table and towards the other doctor.

“Good. I would really hate for you to have fun when I’m on the verge of losing my medical license,” he grumbled, leaning forward in agitation.

“Yes, how… tragic,” Ratchet murmured, walking over and standing over him. He was trying to remember exactly why Knock Out was losing his license. If he was correct, it was a medical screw-up of some sort, although what, he couldn’t exactly remember.

“It was a one-in-a-million chance. It never happens, but that stupid dead idiot never got a medical check-up. How was I supposed to know about him being allergic to anesthesia?” Knock Out asked, shaking slightly. “Frag, he just started coughing energon out of his mouth, worst of it all on my fragging paint job!” he yelled. Ratchet couldn’t tell if Knock Out was just being his usual self or he was trying to deflect all of his feelings by concentrating on the small things. With him, Ratchet could never know.

“It was something you couldn’t have prepare for. If I was on the board, I wouldn’t take your license,” Ratchet comforted him.

“You were in Westside. It’s a lot different here. Having one patient die under your care due to complications during surgery could end up getting you blackmarked from the entire community. And let me tell you, getting blackmarked here gets you blackmarked in the entire city. Frag, it might even follow you into another city,” Knock Out ranted.

“That seems… exceptionally harsh,” he muttered.

“We’re in Periphery Heights. The best of the best. Bad things don’t happen here. One screw up and you’re done,” Knock Out growled, turning to him. “Where were you?”

“Huh?”

“He was supposed to be yours, but you weren’t around. What were you doing so I know what my job was worth,” Knock Out continued to question him.

“I, um…,” Ratchet murmured, rubbing the back of his head. He couldn’t remember. It’s been such a long time. Knock Out continued to glare at him before turning away, looking down at the ground.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m done,” Knock Out muttered, slumping back into the chair defeated. “I can tell it something not important, but I think I rather not know how low it was.” Ratchet grimaced at that. Knock Out had given up completely.

“Listen, Knock Out… I’ll try and see if any of my contacts have any room for you,” he tried to help him.

“Didn’t you listen? This will follow me wherever I go. Doesn’t matter how much they’re your friends, but the higher ups have power. I’m not getting a job in the medical field again,” Knock Out shot him down, leaning back in the chair.

“Well, how about modeling?” Ratchet recommended.

“I know I’m the best looking mech around, Ratchet, but the modeling industry is controlled exclusively by the people in Periphery Heights. That’s not happening,” he rebuked.

“Uh, well….” Ratchet had no idea what to do. He didn’t know what he could do for him. If he couldn’t work as a doctor or a model, Knock Out wouldn’t have a job and therefore no income, which meant he would lose his home. Ratchet wouldn’t let that happen. He thought it through, before he realized something.

“How about The Dead End?” Ratchet recommended.

“That sinkhole? Why?” Knock Out asked, looking up to him.

“That area has little to no doctors there. Even if they revoke your medical license, you could probably get a job there in the medical profession. They’re so desperate that they’ll take anybody that wants to work there, even a doctor who just lost his medical license,” Ratchet told him.

“But… the money will be a lot smaller…,” Knock Out muttered.

“You won’t be able to get a job here. It’s best to take whatever money you got, vacate your home, and moved over there or one of the other districts. The surplus you got should be enough,” he told him.

“But… I’ll have less. I’ll have less money, less home, less everything,” Knock Out growled, looking back down at the ground.

“Yes, but you’ll be unique,” Ratchet told him.

“Unique?” he asked, hunching forward.

“Yeah… you’re not that important here, but imagine if someone of your status moved to The Dead End or somewhere else. You’ll be that talk of the area,” Ratchet tried to convince him. Knock Out looked unsure, scrunching up his face to think it through, but Ratchet had one other move to use. “If all else fails, at least you can safe in the knowledge that no one – and I mean no one – in the Dead End could ever hope to be as handsome as you are.” His optics brighten and he looked up at him, surprised.

“You’re right. None of them could ever look as good as me or be as good as a doctor as me… alright, it might work.” Knock Out murmured.

“So, you’ll take a job there?” Ratchet asked.

“I don’t know if I’ll lower myself to The Dead End, but I can see if I can get a job at one of the lower sections,” Knock Out said, a small smile on his face, although Ratchet could tell that he didn’t want to lower his current standard of living. “Thanks, Ratchet. You really don’t belong here.”

“Huh?” Ratchet asked.

“The people of Periphery Heights lacks a certain… comradery that the other districts have. We’re too self-serving to help each other. You definitely don’t belong here, you bleeding spark.”

“I’m not one. I just know talent when I see it and I don’t want to see it smother by a mistake that you couldn’t possibly anticipate,” he defended his action.

“Yeah, go ahead and make your excuse. It’ll definitely hide the fact that you’re trying to save my career,” he joked with him before relaxing in his chair again. “My advice? Once you make a lot of money, get out and go to somewhere where you belong instead of here. A bleeding spark like you will get chewed up and spit out here,” Knock Out recommended.

“I’ll consider it,” Ratchet nodded.

“Good. So, what exactly were you doing that cost me my job?” Ratchet thought it over. He couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It’s best to just dodge it in his hallucination.

“It’s… something I can’t tell you,” he told him.

“Huh… fine, guess I shouldn’t care about it. Once I’m out of here, you won’t see me again. Might as well not bother with someone expresses such large ambivalence from me,” he muttered.

“Yeah… I’m sorry for this. I never meant to cost you your job,” Ratchet told him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. One of us had to fall on the spear and it was me. If you were here, you would’ve fell on it and I would probably care less about you than you do for me. It would be wrong to hold a grudge just because you were busy with something. Yes, I’m upset and I’ll probably never meet my previously standard of living, but I’ll survive. Just need a good place and so many more cleaning supplies… those places are bound to be filthy,” Knock Out told him with a look of anxiety before adopting a more neutral look. “Anyway, I’ll be fine.”

“Look, if you need some place to stay while you’re out of a job, you could-”

“No, I’m not staying with you,” Knock Out told him immediately. “Look, you’re still the reason I’m losing my job, so it’s best if we just stay away from each other, okay?” Knock Out told him. Ratchet couldn’t help but feel disappointed at that, but he nodded.

“Alright,” Ratchet agreed. “If you think you can handle it.”

“I can,” he said, getting up. “Might as well head on out and get my verdict. Enjoy your day, Ratchet. I got a lot to do.” Knock Out headed out of the room, leaving Ratchet by himself. Ratchet gave a long sigh before he followed through the door into the dilapidated hallway, where Pyrobyte was waiting for him.

“Hey, it took you a while. Did you find anything great?” he asked him.

“Huh, well,” Ratchet muttered, looking back into the room where it was backed to being in ruins before turning back to him, “found some medical supplies and that’s it. Nothing we don’t already have.”

“Oh… that’s a disappointment,” he sighed. “That’s all I found anyway. Well, except for this one room I couldn’t get in.”

“You couldn’t get in a room?” Ratchet asked.

“Yeah… door still operational but it was locked. I’m not very good at hacking doors,” he told him, rubbing the back of his head. “You can take a crack at it if you want. You might be better than I am.”

“Sure, let me take a look at it.”

“Alright, take your best shot,” he said, walking through the hallway carefully with Ratchet right behind him, making sure there were no weaknesses in the floor of wherever they walked. The duo kept walking until they reached a room in the middle of a hallway, the panel to the right signaling it was still working through the emergency power. Pyrobyte pulled out a cylindrical device and handed it to him. “Here,” he said and Ratchet took it and looked at it. It was a cylindrical device with a sharp point protruding from it. “Jammed it into the bottom of the panel and see if you can get it open,” he said. Ratchet nodded and did so, causing a holographic screen to come up. Ratchet was a bit surprised, but kept calm, examining it. It was a bunch of codes and letters, occasionally forming words. He noticed that each of them formed a four letter word. “You got four chances to guest the right one. If you got a letter right, it’ll tell you how many, but not which one,” he instructed to Ratchet and he nodded examining them. The words he could see were:

Time, Rage, Year, Lame, Fame, Tray, Bill, Pain, Gimp, Imps, Nips, Trip, Till, Aims, Lane

Ratchet examined them and clicked the first one.

TWO OUT OF FOUR

Ratchet nodded and looked around to figure out which ones could possibly fit and figure the remaining ones were:

Lame, Fame, Gimp, Till, Aims

Ratchet examined the remaining ones and clicked on the first one again.

THREE OUT OF FOUR

That was enough for him. If it wasn’t lame, it was fame, so he clicked on it.

PASSWORD CORRECT

The words went away and the panel opened up, allowing them to open the door. Ratchet pulled the cylinder out and gave it back to Pyrobyte, who looked stunned. “Damn, Ratchet. You’re a pro,” he said as he grabbed the cylinder backed.

“It wasn’t that hard. I don’t see why you had such a problem with it,” Ratchet murmured as he activated the commands on the panel:

OPEN DOOR

Ratchet pressed the single available command and the door opened, showing off a storage room full of boxes. The two of them searched through the boxes, trying to find anything of use. They found more Med-X as well as some stimpaks. The only thing they haven’t searched through was a locked box with a keypad for numbers. “Why is this box lock?” Pyrobyte asked, scratching his head.

“I don’t know, but it must be important if it’s locked. Got anything to break it open?” Ratchet asked.

“Hold on… I think this might work,” he said, pulling out a thin object with a hook at the end. “Here, it’s a lockpick. Put it into the energy spring. It should be a small little hole right… there,” he said, pointing to an small hole at the side with a light coming out of it. Ratchet slowly inserted it inside the energy spring until it reached the end, when a small holographic screen popped up, showing off a circle separated into two pieces and the center and the top of the circle had a glowing line at the four primary directions. “Alright… spin it around until the two points match. Be quick. Spend too long on it and the battery will die. It recharges if you crack it.” Ratchet nodded to him as he quickly got to work matching the two pieces together. This was an easy lock. It came down to two possible choices for both circles and he quickly match the two of them together, the screen flashing green and approval and going away as he heard a click of the box unlocking.

“Got it,” Ratchet breathed out in relief as he pulled the object out and handed it back to Pyrobyte, who had a wide grin on his face.

“You’re a natural cracker, Ratchet. Are you sure you haven’t done anything like this before?” He asked as he grabbed it back.

“You just need to have brains and nerves of steel. A doctor and surgeon has plenty of both,” Ratchet murmured as he opened the box and showed off a couple of high-quality pistols, ammo for them, and a note. Ratchet grabbed the note and looked through it with Pyrobyte looking over his shoulders.

_Hey, Tangiers. Left this for us in case something happens or if you want to take a crack at the dean of medicines project. She should have it in her desk. That auto-repair thing would be worth a fortune on the market._

“Well… that’s interesting,” Pyrobyte muttered. “That could be really useful for us back at our base. Where’s the Dean of Medicine’s Office?”

“Top floor, right above us,” Ratchet answered. “You want to try and get it?”

“Don’t you?” he asked as he grabbed a gun and examined it. “Wow. I’m not an expert, but this gun looks great.” Ratchet glanced at him before grabbing the pistol and examined it. The grip felt really comfortable and it had a very sleek design with high caliber bullets. It must’ve been made for military use.

“It does look good,” Ratchet murmured as he detached the flashlight from his other pistol onto it and holster the old gun. He grabbed ammo as well as Pyrobyte and the two made their way out. “Alright, let’s head back to the stairs,” he ordered and the two of them quickly, but carefully made their way across the floor back to the dark stairwell. The two climbed up the stairs and reached the top of it. They opened the door to reveal a well-furnished lobby with ornate furniture and paintings on the wall barely lit up by emergency generators. To the left was a large reception desk made to handle several people and three doors on the left wall, Two on the right with a hallway, and one right across from them which likely led to the other staircase.

“Which door?” Pyrobyte asked.

“Middle on the left. Let’s go,” he said, leading the way. The two made their way across the room, past the broken reception desk, and to the middle door. They opened it to fine a small room with a desk off to the left side and chairs on the right side with a door across from them. The two of them quickly reached for the door and tried to open it only to find it locked. “Dammit.”

“You could pick it,” his partner recommended.

“Do you see an energy spring?” Ratchet asked him and Pyrobyte looked around and frowned.

“No….”

“Then we need the keycard,” Ratchet said as got behind the desk and began searching through it. “Come on, there has to be something here,” he muttered as he searched through the drawers, finding it to be mostly barren, until he found a note. He grabbed it and read it out loud to Pyrobyte.

_Another week, another passcode. This week, it’s memory. Delete this after reading it_

“Ah, thank Primus these people are sloppy,” Pyrobyte chuckled as he went to the door and inputted the code. The door gave a favorable click and Pyrobyte tried the door, opening it for them. They entered the room to find a large office with a desk and chairs in the room among the windows and drawers. The wall in front of them was a giant window that was blown out, showing off the destroyed landscape of Iacon to them. Pyrobyte closed the door behind them as Ratchet walked onto the end of the room and looked out to see the buildings around him crumbling, torn apart and blown opened, the streets littered with debris from the building and with vehicles and even a couple of ship, and the sky being a murky gray with the sun being unable to shine out.

“Wow… the city is in ruins,” Ratchet muttered.

“Yeah… that’s what happens in an apocalypse,” Pyrobyte muttered as he began looking through the desk. He pulled the drawers out completely and threw them aside when they had nothing. He kept up until he ran out of drawers and looked through the desk’s cabinets at the bottom. The first one revealed nothing, but the other one had a locked safe in it. “Found a safe.”

“Huh?” Ratchet muttered as he turned around to see the safe he was talking about, which looked to be a finger scanner.

“Well, we don’t have a finger to give it, so we’re going to have to crack it open at the energy spring,” he said, withdrawing the lockpicking device out and handing it to Ratchet. He glanced at it before taking it and walking over to the safe. He inserted it into the energy spring and the device came out, this time have five light lines for him to guide through three circles. Ratchet noticed the slight difficult spike, but paid no mind to it as he got to work on it, spinning the circles around for the answer. The timer for the battery was running down at a similar pace to last time, which meant he had to solve a more complicated puzzle with the same amount of time. How grand for him. He spin it around quickly, looking for the correct path to make five light lines. He kept calm, getting very close to solving it…

“Got it,” Ratchet murmured as he heard the safe unlock and withdraw the safe and opened it, revealing many datapads. He quickly looked at the title of them before finding one that says ‘Advanced Auto-Repair Technology’ and took that out and stand up. “I believe this is what we are looking for.”

“I believe so,” Pyrobyte said as he looked at it. “Quite nice. They’ll love this.”

“Yeah, I- Woah,” Ratchet yelled as he suddenly felt the room shake as him and Pyrobyte held onto the desk for dear life. The two of them heard something loud, almost like a building collapsing, as they held on. After a solid minute of holding on to the table, the shaking stopped and the two breathed a sigh of relief. “Where did that quake come from?” Ratchet asked.

“I don’t know,” Pyrobyte muttered, hunched over, trying to calm down. “That was intense.”

“No kidding,” Ratchet muttered as he opened the door. “Come on, let’s get… out of… what the frag?” Ratchet muttered as he looked out the door to more buildings of Iacon. He looked down to see most of the building had collapse, leaving him and Pyrobyte stuck up top.

“What?” Pyrobyte asked as he looked over him to see what happened. “Oh… wow. Looks like training’s over.”

“What does that- AH!” Ratchet yelled as he felt something push him and he fell forward into empty air. It was a quick fall before he fell on the edge of a ledge, smashing his chest into it, before he started falling again to the ground floor, smashing through the reception desk and smacking against the ground. Ratchet felt pain racked his body when he hit the ground and he gave a loud groan from the pain. He could practically feel his body dent inward and smash into his organs and crack his spinal shaft. He shutter his optics as he winced in agony. He didn’t want to feel anything. He just wanted to recharge and let the pain go away.

“Need help?” he heard a voice that he didn’t want to hear and turned his optics back on to see Pyrobyte crouched over him, looking him over.

“You… bastard,” Ratchet growled.

“Why… it’s all fake,” he said.

“Fake? Look at me!”

“What? I see nothing wrong with you.”

“Why you,” he said as he tilted his head forward. “Look at… that.” His body was undented, nothing on it to show that he fell on it.

“See? Nothing's wrong with you,” Pyrobyte chimed, just a bit smug.

“What the…,” Ratchet muttered as he started lifting himself back up, sitting up straight and bending forward, wondering what was going on.

“Is there anything else you want to say?” he asked. Ratchet gritted his teeth as he looked back up again and thought things over. He fell down four stories due to Pyrobyte pushing him, but nothing felt wrong with him. It was all so… wait.

“How did you get down?” Ratchet asked.

“That’s is a good question,” he said, looking up. “I wouldn’t jump off that. Push you off, yeah, but I wouldn’t jump myself. So what does that mean?” he asked, and Ratchet could feel himself dying inside with each annoying word from him. What was he? He was Pyrobyte of course. An unstable individual without his twin to give him emotional support. He was so crazy that he entered the room and… and he shot Momus… and Handbrake… and….

“No…,” Ratchet muttered, the weight of the answer falling down on him. “You… you shot yourself… and the bullet traveled through your head… through mine.” He bent forward, bracing his hands against his legs. This didn’t make any sense. That would mean. “I’m dead.”

“No you’re not,” Pyrobyte scoffed, causing him look back up in shock. “You’re just in a coma. If you were dead, you would be face-to-face with Primus.”

“Coma?” Ratchet asked.

“Yeah… you’ve been in one for a while now. I’m guess you’re about to wake up,” he said.

“What? How could you- gah!” he yelled as he felt the ground shaking again and more buildings began to fall apart.

“That’s why?” he muttered, looking around. “Look, the sky is cracking.”

“What does that… what?” Ratchet murmured as he looked up at the sky to see a giant crack in it.

“Yeah, don’t worry. You’re waking back up. You’ll be fine,” he muttered.

“Then, what was the point of this?” Ratchet muttered.

“Training run. I want you get the hang of things when you enter the real world,” he answered.

“What?” Ratchet asked, getting back up on his feet. “What do you mean?”

“On my effects, you should find those hacking tools. Take them. Consider that an… apology for putting a bullet through you head,” he told him, sounding remorseful. “I… let my hatred of Momus take over me.” The ground shook again and rays of light started shining through to the ground.

“You… you,” Ratchet murmured.

“Hmm, I’ll be alone here without you. Good luck. You’ll need it from what I’ve been hearing,” he said and Ratchet felt a shiver run through his spine.

“What does that mean?” Ratchet asked as the sky cracked open and light bathed him. As it covered him, he heard Pyrobyte say one last thing to him.

“Stay alive.”


	5. Waking Up with Death

Once again, Ratchet onlined to a haze, although this was a short-lived one. He tried as quickly as he could to dispel it and concentrated on what was around him. First off, it was dark, only being illuminated by two very dim lights in two opposite corners of the room, one of them being a light torn out of the ceiling and dangling from it while the other appeared to be a small screen on a corner table. It was enough for him to see very vague amounts of the room, able to see the outline of a corner of a cabinet and that's about it. It was all quiet in the room except for the sound of something dripping at a slow pace.

Ratchet used his arms to sit himself up, which was a bit painful. All of his joints in his arms were crying out at him to stop, indicating that he hadn't use them in quite a while and he had to rectify that. He was a coma guy that just woke up and he had to be careful. He twisted his arms around to work out all the kinks, followed by throwing his legs over the right side of the bed and shaking them around to work out the kinks there. This was followed up by twisting his head around to work out the neck joints to make sure they were working and after a couple of pops, were working just fine.

With that done, he had to deal with the darkness. He reached for the Pipbot that should've been there, but hit bare armor. Ratchet quietly cursed to himself at that and looked around. He concentrated on the corner of the room with the small light on the table. If he had to guess, that would be it and he had to reach it. He got off the table, using his hands to hold on the table as he felt his legs nearly give in and make him collapse to the floor. He felt some liquid on the bottom of his feet and it made him feel a bit unease at it. Tacklebolt usually did a good job of cleaning the floors. Why would they be unclean… and why was the only other light source ripped out of the ceiling?

Ratchet slowly walked around the table, the soft spatter of the liquid he was stepping on filling the room. He could still fell the machinery in his legs grinding slowly, needing to be broken in again. At least his arms were working good, bracing him against the table to stand, probably because they were always the more effective limbs. He was always proud of his hands flexibility and precision and his arms had a sturdy quality to it that made it very durable. Still, his legs had to get better quick, as he felt open air in front of him, which meant that he had to walk unassisted. Ratchet gave a small sigh, gritted his teeth, and walked off the table. He stumbled forward unsteadily and outstretched his arms to find anything to hold on to. He was fortunate and his hands grabbed onto an object. It felt a bit odd, allowing his arms to encircle what he was holding, and felt more of that strange liquid on his hand. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite figure it out.

He ignored it and continued feeling his way around to the light, taking a turn with the table and making his way to the corner of the table where the light source that he wanted was a good three steps away. Ratchet silently groaned and took a careful step forward, making sure he wasn't going to tumble to the ground when he let go. Once that was complete and his leg stayed stable, he took the other two steps and grabbed the light, which was a Pipbot, which made Ratchet sigh in relief. He needed this. He looked around and saw that it was his name on it, so he slapped it on his left wrist, turned on the flashlight, and looked at his health. He noticed that his legs were a bit unwell, which he could figure out himself, and his head was consider unstable, but other than that, he was alright. One more look at other things proved his internal systems were working well, so he was alright overall. A cursory glance over himself revealed that he had energon caking his feet and various amount splatter on his body, which was weird, but he ignored it to focus on more pressing matter.

With all that done, Ratchet flicked around to the map and looked at where he was. According to him, he was in the Med-Bay, which made a certain amount of sense. He must've been on the operation table where First Aid and Ambulon could watch over him to make sure he was doing fine. And that other thing he felt at the table must've been another person! He didn't have a clue who it was, but he had to get help wherever he could. Ratchet quickly turned around to see who was on the operation table.

He immediately felt sick to his systems as he looked at the figure on the table. Energon was all over the person, some of it dripping from the table and hitting the ground. The person's chest was open up to have his organs exposed, where he could see the organs cut open and scalpels sticking out of several organs with a knife sticking out of the person's spark. Ratchet felt sick at the cruelty of what was done to the person and examined who he was. His legs, body, and head were red and his arms were white with a medical symbol on his shoulder…

"First Aid," Ratchet muttered as he figured out who he was. He immediately felt like purging his systems out, but resisted it, instead turning away so as not to look at him. He spent over 300 years working alongside him only to end up like that…. Who could've done it? How long was he in a coma? It must've been a while, considering the state of what's going on. And why did they leave him alone? Maybe they were attacked? Or they were being attacked right now….

Ratchet felt something creeping up his spine. That has to be the reason why no one cleaned up the room. That or they were all dead. Frankly, he had no idea which one was worse, but either way, he needed a weapon to protect himself. And that left one thing he could use.

He turned back to First Aid's corpse and looked at the knife stuck in his spark. He didn't want to desecrate his body in any way, but if there were people out there who wanted to kill him, he would have to have a weapon to protect himself. He walked carefully towards the body, his feet making the energon on the floor splash around. He approached the body and looked inside the hole in his chest. He could see in great detail all the wounds afflicted on his organs, being mutilated to the point of being unusable for anything else. After some hesitation and reminders that he needed that damn knife, he grabbed a hold of the knife and tugged at it. That was met with the body being pulled up slightly and Ratchet letting go in disgust. The person who did this really thrusted the knife in deep. Ratchet slowly intake and outtake, silently cursing himself for making himself do this, but he had to defend himself, so he grabbed ahold of the knife again and placed a hand on First Aid's neck to keep him still and pulled hard, dislodging the knife from the body, giving Ratchet a weapon to use, which both excited and terrified him. He looked at it to see it was rusted a fair bit and the blade was slightly dull. It wouldn't make for a good weapon, but he might be able to kill someone with it.

Before he headed out, he needed to look around and see if he could find anything of use in the room. It was the Medical Bay, there had to be something he could use, so he walked around and tried to ignore the body and the constant sound of his feet hitting the energon. He walked over to the cabinet and looked inside only to find pretty much everything gone. That must've been why the one who invaded attacked the place. They needed supplies and so they attacked to get them. Giving a remorseful sigh, he swung his Pipbot around the room in the hopes of finding anything he could use. His findings led to him finding nothing of interest in the room except for a stimpak in the room that was on the floor covered in First Aid's energon. Stimpaks were emergency medical devices used to give an infusion of energon loaded with Calaphex into someone's body if they were injured to make up for the energon lost and greatly speed up the auto-repair systems. They were mostly used during war time, but when peace came, someone managed to get them sold to the public and they became a hit, being very popular with certain people in the medical field and with people involved in less… moral fields. Still, they was good to have in his current situation.

With that found, he made one last look around the room and saw something under the bed that interested him. He bent down and grabbed it, which ended up being a datapad. He clicked on it and saw three videos saved on it. Ratchet was intrigued by it and clicked on the first one, which was the oldest. The video started with an image of Ambulon scowling into the screen. "Ambulon. Year 311. Day 23. Previous one ran out of memory, so starting anew. Madness happened. Pyrobyte, that frakking bastard, entered the reactor room and shot the place up, shooting Momus and Handbrake before shooting himself in the head, sending a bullet through his own head and into Ratchet's. Momus and Handbrake were both tended to and are doing well, but we're putting both on watch for any complications. Ratchet's the real problem. Took a bullet to the head that broke apart inside his brain. Even if he lives, he'll likely have permanent brain damage. We're not even sure if we got all the bullet fragments in his head. He might hear rattling in his head if he wakes up." Ratchet instinctively moved his head around and felt nothing, so he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they got them all.

"Still, I'm doubtful. A bullet to the head is hard to recover from. First Aid is scared after what happened and so is Lightstep. She locked herself in her room and I tended to First Aid after I finished with surgery on the three patients. It was… odd, but nice to actually reconnect with him. He needed it after watching all that." He gave a sigh and shook his head. "I really hope Ratchet pulls through. We need him and I… like him, even if he's responsible for letting First Aid get away from me. I would consider him a friend, which is rare for me. I didn't have friends when I came down to the shelter, and having someone like Ratchet was a breath of fresh air, even if he had a habit of making decisions an actual doctor wouldn't have made. Hmpf. Anyway, ending entry." The clip ended and Ratchet gave a relieved sigh. First Aid may be dead, but Momus and Handbrake appeared to make it through just fine. He didn't knew them very well, but anybody that could possibly get him out of this place was a boon to him.

He click on the second video and was once again greeted with Ambulon's visage, once again frowning. "Ambulon. Year 311. Day 25. I really hate Pyrobyte. The bullet that exited his helm split in two after exiting his head. One went into Ratchet's CPU and the other, somehow, in the worst case scenario, hit the reactor and is risking a complete meltdown. Lightstep and Lander are doing their best, but Handbrake was the best when it came to the reactor and he's still in bed, unable to actually get up from it. On that note, Momus is also bedridden and doing fine. Ratchet is still in a coma, because, to my surprise, bullets to the head don't heal in a day," he told the datapad in the most sarcastic tone imaginable, making Ratchet smile slightly. Ambulon had a certain skill in sarcasm that most people didn't have, although it can be a bit much. Some of the things he said were downright caustic.

"The reactor is a serious risk. It might make us have to go on a mass exodus out of the shelter if we don't fix the problem. Siren doesn't want that, as he said so eloquently to everyone. However, a small group consisting of five people, headed up by Sunspot, who wanted to leave, left the shelter. Siren was reluctant to, but he agreed and sent one of the guards, Zula, out with them to where they wanted to go. Guess he was too affected by Pyrobyte's shootout." Ratchet gave a small sigh. He should've guessed that Sunspot would leave at the first chance. He hoped that he was still alive. It was unlikely, but it was something he could hope for.

"The leak also had the odd effect of a small leak to up top. It's nothing that affect our standard of health – for now – but someone could use that to locate of us if they used Eleuvian scanners, since the radiation from it is quite different to the one infecting the outside world. I'm hoping all the ones back up top are broken. Don't want any unwanted visitors."

'Too late,' Ratchet couldn't help to think to himself.

"End entry." The screen went back to the menu and Ratchet let out a small sigh. That explains why they were attacked. The reactor let out enough up top for it to be tracked by someone. Now who was the question.

Ratchet clicked on the third video and something drastically different came up. Instead of Ambulon, it was First Aid on his knees, looking beaten up, and a gun pointed at him from someone just out of frame. Judging by the way the screen was moving, someone was holding the camera while another person was holding the gun. Ratchet felt sick when he heard a soft and educated voice say something. "Go on. We made a deal. Give your last will and testimony."

"I will. Just thinking of the things to say," First Aid replied, sounding in pain. It was obvious the ones who were filming this have already beaten him up pretty well. "Look, to whoever is listening to this, please give this to Lightstep, my conjunx endura, and tell her I love her. I love her so very much and… to remember 4791. She'll know it when you tell her. Please… don't let her see this video," First Aid told the recorder, his voice shaking all through it.

"Very good. Now, just to make sure, if you say yes to this message, we'll give you a long death. If you say no and we destroy this recording, we'll just put a bullet through your skull. Now, are you sure you want this message to exist?" the voice asked First Aid calmly.

"Yes… I am. Those numbers are necessary," he replied instantly.

"Hmph, strange that you are so worried about those numbers rather than your conjunx endura, but okay. If you say so. Let's strap you to the table." First Aid kept looking at the recorder with the emptiest look on his face. He knew he was dead and he accepted it. With that final image, the video was cut, taking Ratchet back to the main menu. Ratchet stared at the device with a withdrawn expression, a sense of sorrow feeling him. First Aid willingly went through that pain just to give Lightstep those numbers. He wondered exactly what it was. As he was thinking this through, his Pipbot rumble and Ratchet looked at it oddly. The device told him that a new entry was uploaded to notes. He pressed the button and the device took him to the notes where the three video clips were there for him if he ever wanted to look at it or give to other people. It must've auto-load it directly to his Pipbot through a wireless transmission. He really didn't want to have those on his Pipbot, especially the last one, but they would probably be good for future references.

With that done, he placed the datapad to the side and went to the door. He took a rattled breath and tried to figure out where he should go. The exit would be the best idea, but he bet that wasn't safe at the current moment. So, where could he possibly go?

" _On my effects, you should find my hacking tools._ "

That weird hallucination of Pyrobyte… it said he could get those hacking tools off of those bodies. Since Ratchet didn't see his body around the area, there probably was a morgue somewhere around the facility and he had to find it. It was probably a bad idea to listen to an insane hallucination who pushed him off a building, but considering the situation, anything would work. So, with an idea of where to go, he readied his knife and opened the door. He entered the dark hallway and Ratchet swung his Pipbot around to get a good look at the surrounding with only two lights working here. A couple of bodies were near the dorm room doors, looking like they were shot trying to get in. There were a lot a marks around the hallway, consisting of scratch and laser marks and energon on the floor and wall, the biggest amount being a small pool leading to the left door which looked kind of fresh. With the area clear, Ratchet looked at his Pipbot and looked at the map to find the morgue. It didn't take long to find it and figured out that he needed to take the door to the left where the small amount of energon was going to… great.

With a bit of apprehension, Ratchet walked toward the door and tried to open it up, which did so easily. He walked down the steps carefully, taking a note of the energon that was going down the steps as well. The stairway was especially dark, with absolutely no lights working and he had to use the light to make sure he doesn't trip and fall. After he reached the bottom, he turned his flashlight off just in case and he opened the door to see something unsettling. Inside, the hallway that was a lot like the previous one, was actually brightly lit for once with most of the lights working, which make it easy to see the black-colored figured around Ratchet's size brutally punching and kicking a red colored person down. Looking closely, he could see the Vault-Tec symbol on his shoulder, which meant the person was Joor, which meant the person beating him down was the enemy. Ratchet paused in place as he watched this, listening to the enemy mock Joor, the other giving ragged gasps of pain with each blow. Further away from him, he could see a rifle on the floor, impossible to reach without attracting his attention. He didn't want to fight, but Joor was getting a beatdown by the bot and were in the way of the morgue and he couldn't just sneak past him to get the rifle. He had to act or things would go bad for him. He had to save Joor.

He moved slowly, knife at the ready, him mustering the best grip Derve had when the guards showed off the knives in a defense training exercise. " _If you got the jump on someone, approach silently from behind. Once you're in range, place your arm around their throat to keep him still and attempt to crush his vocal cords, and thrust the knife in his back. Repeat the stabbing as necessary._ " The enemy was slowing down now, now taking more time in mocking the downed guard than punching him.

"You vault-dwellers think you're so lucky, being down here, safe from all the radiation, the mutated animals, the lack of fragging energon, and those ugly sparkeaters!" A swift kick and a groaned. Ratchet was a quarter of the way there. "How does it feel, huh? You might be resisting us pretty well for now, but we'll slaughter you sooner or later. Doesn't matter and I'll make sure to make your death painful for shooting Frigid and Yorn." A punch to the face. Yorn and Frigid must've been the two he saw in the hallway. Ratchet was halfway to him. "How should I kill you? Do I slice you up very slowly? Very nice idea." Two kicks and a punch followed by a hard stomp on his knees, making him scream. Ratchet was almost on him. "And then, we'll throw your pieces to your friends and make them beg for mer- AH!" he shouted as Ratchet drove the knife in the small of his back and used his free arm to wrap it around his neck.

"Gah, you slagger! Augh," he grunted as Ratchet pulled the knife out and once again stabbed him with it, trying to hit his spark. In response, the enemy jumped back, digging the knife deeper in his own back and sending the two of them to the ground. The enemy dug his elbow into Ratchet's side multiple times to make him let go and was met with success when Ratchet force to loosen his grip and he broke out of it, rolling off to the side. Ratchet was left a bit pained from the blows, but ignored it when he saw the enemy got up with his back to the wall and he looked down at him with blue optics. "Wait, what the hell! You're the coma doctor. You're weren't projected to wake back up for over a year," he realized, shocked.

" _If your enemy is speaking to you instead of fighting, take the advantage and stab them._ " Ratchet took advantage of that and leaped forward with the knife and sent it into his gut, making him gasp in pain and grabbed onto his wrist, trying to pull it back out. " _If your enemy is trying to take your weapon and both of you are using your hands, well… you will prove the head is the best weapon a person has in their disposal, in more ways than one._ " Ratchet didn't let him, head-butting him to startle him and making a dent in his head, before he twisted the knife and pulled it up, trying to slice into the critical sections of his body. If he was correct, he probably just cut into a major fuel and energon line. This was confirmed when he suddenly started spitting a bunch of energon out of his mouth and onto Ratchet face, startling him but not stopping him as he continued bring the knife up into his spark. The enemy gave one last gasp before his grip lessened and fell to the side. Ratchet stared into his optics as they deaden and he let go, the intruder's feet falling out from under him, letting him slide against the wall to the floor with his head down.

Ratchet looked down at the corpse, a look of disbelief on his face and his hands shaking as he came out of his adrenaline rush. He had just killed someone. He was a doctor, someone who saved lives, not take them. Yet, he was calming down quickly and his hands had calmed down. He did what he was good at, which was rationalizing. He was an invader who was ruthlessly killing anyone in his way. He had to kill him or else he would've kill him. It was the best reasoning he could make for killing him and a good one at that, but Ratchet still didn't like it…

*Cough Cough*

Ratchet turned around to the down guard who was busy coughing his fuel pump out. He had forgotten all about him, so he quickly went over to him and crouched over him. He had a bunch of dents and small cuts leaking energon on him from the intruder's beatdown, but other than that, he was superficially alright. The real question was if he was damaged internally. He stopped coughing and looked up at his savior with red optics. "Ratchet?"

"Yeah, it's me," he answered as he continued to look him over for any other signs of injury. "Just woke up from a coma."

"Wow, you're tougher than I thought if you could wake up from a coma far earlier than expected and kill a marauder. Nice one, doc," he complimented him.

"Please don't compliment me for killing someone," Ratchet grunted as he wrapped the guard's arm around his shoulder and began helping him up.

"Oh, was that your first kill?" Ratchet gave a nod. "Then my bad. The first kill is often an unpleasant feeling. Believe me, you'll get used to it. You shouldn't worry about it. I'm not saying that because I'm callous, but I imagine there'll be a lot more fighting in the future." Joor tried to comfort him as Ratchet got him on his feet.

"Thanks," Ratchet replied as he steady him. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah," he replied, letting go and placing an arm on the wall. "Just… need to be more careful," he mutter as he placed his back against the wall.

"Can you check your medical situation with your Pipbot?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah, let me look at it," Joor said, pulling the Pipbot and looking at it. "Yeah… it's crippled," he moaned in anger. "I swear, if you didn't kill that guy, I would've."

"It would probably be better on my conscience," Ratchet muttered.

"Yeah… did you see anyone before you rescued me?" he asked.

"Only First Aid's body," Ratchet answer.

"He's dead?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes… it wasn't pretty waking up to his mutilated corpse," Ratchet told him.

"Dammit…." He moaned.

"Look, can you explain some things to me? I have no idea what's happening," Ratchet asked him.

"We're attacked. Have been for a couple of days. We've been really good at holding them back. We've only been losing ground recently at the entrance, the dorms, the atrium, the Med-Bay, the jail, the science labs near the atrium, the conservatory, and the overseer's office, although Siren's been holding them off for a while. Don't know how long he'll last, but he's a damn fine shooter," he told the medic happily.

"How about casualties?" Ratchet asked.

"Only a few confirmed ones –Farlight, Blight, and Jadanarano- with the rest MIA. First Aid was one of them. We thought he was just taken away, since Ambulon was taken by them," he muttered.

"Wait, Ambulon was kidnapped by them?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah. One of the guards, Srig, the gray one, saw them carry off with him, trying to fight against them. They knock him out and took him away," he answered.

"Why would they want him?" Ratchet asked.

"I don't know, but it left us without a medic before you woke up. We not completely incompetent in the medical department, but they took control of the Med-Bay and left us with nothing except some stimpaks that people brought with them," he answered for him.

"Well, do you know who's missing?" he asked.

"Let's see, um, well, aside from the few that we know left the Fallout shelter, like Sunspot and his group as well as Lightstep, who left because she said she had a transmission she had to follow – I really hope I don't have to break the news about First Aid to her- and Lugnutz, who really wanted to get out, we're missing Treads, Tidalshock, Bludgeon, Derve, Lander, Momus, Tacklebolt, Madoro, and Dosaro. Might as well include Swindle in that list because he was at the jail when they took it, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's dead. I don't mind, he deserves it. The other ones, I have no idea whether they're dead, hiding, or escaped, but we have no idea where they are," Joor explained to Ratchet.

"Well, things are better here than I expected," Ratchet muttered. "I fully expected a slaughter, but we appear to be doing good."

"What do you expect? We got the home-field advantage and they don't know about the secret passageways we use for flanking. Those secret passages are a lot more useful than I expected," he chuckled.

"Well, can you get me to the morgue?" Ratchet asked.

"The morgue? You want to see the dead bodies?" he asked.

"Just one. Pyrobyte's," Ratchet answered.

"That slagger," Joor growled. "He's the one who caused all this problems in the first place."

"I know, but I need to check his effects," Ratchet told him.

"Ugh… fine. Let's get you there," he muttered, lifting himself on the wall and standing painfully on his leg.

"You need help," Ratchet ordered, walking over to him.

"No!" he shouted, holding his hand out to keep him from walking forward. "I… can handle it," he said, bending down to get his rifle off the ground painfully and walking towards the door at the end of the hallway.

"So you say," Ratchet muttered as he followed the crippled soldier through the door and down the stairs that turned left, a grunt escaping the red guard's mouth with every step, using both of his feet for a step. This kept up until they reached the bottom of the stairs and he opened it up to lead to a wider hallway with working lights and a barricade set with people there ready to shoot, one of them of them being Srig with his smoky grey frame and eyes and the other being someone he didn't know quite well. The two of them, upon realizing who it was, put their guns away.

"Joor, good to see your recon went well and – is that Ratchet?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah, it's him."

"Damn… impressive," he nodded. "We weren't expecting you for another year, Ratchet, and to have some brain damage."

"I'm a tough, old bot," Ratchet told him.

"That's putting it lightly. You stabbed someone to death on the way here. That's impressive," Joor told him.

"Woah, seriously?" Srig asked as he examined Ratchet closely and noted the energon-stained knife in his hands. "Ah, I see."

"Yes, although I need you to add First Aid to the KIA list. Ratchet can confirm he's dead," Joor told him.

"Oh, damn… I thought he was alive," Srig muttered sadly, scratching the back of his neck. "Lightstep is going to be so sparkbroken."

"We'll deal with that when the moment comes. Meanwhile, I'll take your place at the barricade while you lead Ratchet to the Morgue," he told him, hopping the barricade and taking his place at the spot, leaning against the barricade with his weapon ready.

"Yeah, sure. Follow me, Ratchet," he told him, walking towards the back door. Ratchet looked at Joor, who motioned for him to go on ahead, and he hopped over the barricade and followed Srig. They went up a set of stairs that turned right and entered another small hallway in the middle, this one slightly messy, but still looked decent. A couple of people were sitting down on the wall, talking to each other. He took a left and walked towards the door at the end. If Ratchet remembered the map correctly, this is where the morgue is. He opened the door and the two walked into a blue room with many small doors at the end and a desk to the left where a small, black-colored bot with yellow optics was at. He looked at them dully before noticing Ratchet.

"Huh… I expected you on the slab. Oh, well, I've been busy recently. Over 300 years without a body to look at and now I'm getting them like crazy. It's very nice," he said.

"I remember why I don't talk to you very often. You're a creep," Ratchet muttered.

"Dwell, we need to see Pyrobyte's effects when he died," Srig told him.

"Ah, Pyrobyte. The first one. I'm glad he took the initiative," he said, getting up and walking over to a file cabinet and opening it. "A bullet through the head, destroying his CPU and being unable to properly control the flow of energon and fuel. Suicide," he muttered as he grabbed a bag from the drawer and brought it over to them. "Here. I have no idea what they're for, but see if you can make use for it." He handed the bag for them and Ratchet quickly took them out. The two things he was looking for, the hacking and lockpicking devices, were there, to his surprise.

"What are those for?" Srig asked.

"They're a lockpicking and hacking device," Ratchet told him, pocketing them. He looked at the bag to see a bunch of small batteries, twelve to be exact. "These are batteries for the lockpicker, I'm guessing," he said as he grabbed them and pocket it as well. The only other thing was a small datapad that Ratchet could fit in his hand. Ratchet took it and flicked it on, revealing a picture of Pyrobyte and someone who looked like him with an icy blue paintjob, their arms around each other's shoulders and smiling wide at the camera. Ratchet remembered that he had a twin and he was probably with him now. Probably for the best. He heard a rumble and guessed that the photo was uploaded to his Pipbot, because of course it was. He doubt it was going to be of any use to him, but he might as well take what he could.

"That must be his twin that he always talked about," Srig muttered next to Ratchet as he looked at the photo. "He looked so happy."

"I think everything was happier back then… what a shame," Ratchet muttered as he put the picture back down.

"At least he's with him now."

"And we're stuck here," Ratchet murmured sadly.

"Well, you two look depressed, which I don't understand why. We're finally in an interesting situation," Dwell chirped, taking a seat behind his desk.

"Geez, would you stop being weird?" Srig asked of him.

"I don't see it as weird, but please, head out and make more dead bodies. Preferably enemy bodies," he asked of them.

"Yeah, that was already our intention," he said, heading out with Ratchet behind him and closing the door behind them. "I swear, that guy was a serial killer before he enter the vault."

"Relax. He's a creep, but he's our creep. He realizes what's going on and wouldn't try to hurt us," Ratchet told him.

"That's probably true, but you think he would develop some social skills," Srig muttered. "So, what do you want to do next? Patrol the area. Defend a barricade."

"How about… we find some way to kick them out," Ratchet recommended. Srig looked at him with a look of disbelief before he started smiling again.

"Alright, well, the first thing we need to do is get to Siren so we can coordinate a counterassault," he muttered, taking a knife and twirling it. "The enemy there has superior weapons and the armory is currently locked with no way in. We don't know any secret passages to the room and the door requires simultaneous use of entry, so one hacking device isn't going to cut it and we don't have another."

"Well… do we got any explosives?" Ratchet asked.

"In the armory… wait. Maybe, just maybe, Swindle has some on him, but he's in the jail. There's some secret passages there, but none leading directly to a jail cell, so we're going to have to fight them," he told him.

"We need to start fighting back and we need Siren for that. He knows how to fight better than everyone else," Ratchet told him.

"Yeah, I know… I'll see if I can get a fighting force ready to go for attacking the jail. It's to the left of that barricade and both of us are at a standstill. If we want to get in, it'll have to be a two-prong attack. One through the entrance way and the other from the secret passages. It's the only way of catching them off guard," he told him.

"Well, looks like you got a plan. I think rescuing Swindle will be a good thing for us," Ratchet said.

"I… don't think so, but we need his explosives," Srig muttered.

"Why are you so against Swindle?" Ratchet asked.

"It's not just me. It's everyone after we were able to follow a trail of evidence to Swindle giving the gun to Pyrobyte that he used to shoot the nuclear reactor room up. It's his fault we're dealing with these Marauders," he told him.

"He's the one that got Pyrobyte the gun? I thought he just stole it," he muttered.

"We thought so too, until we found evidence of him breaking into the armory with Pyrobyte and recovering the weapon. We locked him in the jail cell to figure out how to get justice for his crime when those marauders attacked. Frankly, I hope he's dead. Don't need a sneaker fragger like him around," Srig told him.

"Right… well, get this attack planned out and we'll see if we can get his explosives, dead or alive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter, but I'm finally getting things rolling and I already killed a character off. Sorry First Aid fans.


	6. Jailbreak!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet busts Swindle from jail.

Within an hour, the assault on the jail had been planned out and Ratchet went with the group that was planning on sneaking around using the secret passages. They took the secret passage in the morgue and made their way to the dorm rooms. Despite the fact that they took the area, the invaders didn't leave any soldiers there and stayed in the atrium, probably because the dorm rooms were a non-critical function to them and most of the rooms would probably have to be broken into. In Ratchet's group was Srig, the grey guard that reminded him a lot of Derve in body shape; Tassel, a brown color bot that was taller and leaner than Ratchet whose optics had a yellow background with silver optics; Terrarium, a dusty-tan color bot that was pretty short, but also very lean with simple yellow optics; Goldtext, who was around Ratchet's size and was colored black with gold etchings on his arms and legs with black optics with gold irises in it; and Fervent, a bot slightly bigger than Ratchet, who was black on his body and parts of his limb, and white everywhere else and wearing an odd necklace with a symbol on it. Each of them had been armed with a simple gray guard pistol with a very sleek, ergonomic design using ballistic rounds holding fifteen bullets per clip and Srig had a laser rifle with him that was a bit large and bulky, but easily useable for someone like him. Joor was leading the group at the front and they were waiting for the opening shots of Ratchet's group to start entering.

The group funneled out of the secret passage to a dorm room. "I'll check the hallway," Srig told them as he moved ahead to check the door and the other five check their gear. This gave Ratchet the chance to look at the squad he was with. Tassel was easily the most nervous, walking back and forth and biting the tips of his servos. Terrarium wasn't that far behind, sitting on the bed and slowly rechecking the bullets with shaking hand, accidently slipping with one and letting it out of his hand. Goldtext was easily the calmest, sitting peacefully next to Terrarium and grabbing the bullet before it hit the ground and giving it back to him, which kind of creeped him out. Not as much as Fervent, who was easily the most bloodthirsty of the lot, leaning against the wall and playing with what looked like a ceremonial dagger that he brought with him with a gleam in his optics that had black optics with a white background. He guessed his blade was a ceremonial one due to the silver etchings on the blade and grip and the same symbol on his necklace being highly visible on his crossguards. In fact, he could see words on the blade, but it wasn't in a language he knew, which was unusual. There weren't that many languages on Cybertron.

"It's all clear," he heard Srig said as he motioned them over and they all followed along, Terrarium messily putting the bullets back in the gun as they were leaving. Ratchet followed behind Srig as they exited to near the end of the hall, completely opposite of where his room was at. They quickly closed the distance and were at the intersection, where Srig looked both directions before confirming that the coast was cleat and they continued on until they reached Barricade's door and Srig tried to open it only to find it lock. "Dammit. Ratchet, crack this."

"Alright," he said and examined it. He could spot an energon spring visible at the side of the panel and pulled the lockpick out and stick it in the energon spring, pulling out the holographic image. It was a criminally easy puzzle, being only one thing he had to spin between the inner and outer circle and quickly spun it around until he found a match and confirmed it, the screen going green in acceptance and unlocking for him. Ratchet pulled the device out, put it away, and opened the door, allowing them entrance into Barricade's room. At the same time, he heard footsteps marching down the hall.

"Quick, get in, get in," Srig whispered harshly and everyone quickly did so and closed the door behind them and locked it. "Alright, now let me go find that button," he said as he went off. Ratchet separated and looked around the room. It was simple, having all that Ratchet had in his room, plus a poster over his bed that seemed to have the police pledge on it and another one with many guns on it, giving names and info on it. He went over to Barricade's desk and found a data pad on it. He picked it up and looked at it, appearing to have a message on it.

_This is Barricade. To those reading this, I'm leaving the shelter since the radiation appears to have mostly gone away. I know this is unexpected, but I heard a radio transmission from an old friend of mine and I'm making my way over there to meet him. This might be a suicide mission, but I need to get out of here. If you want to find me, I'm getting the transmission from the police station at the Dead End. I'll be there, if I make it. Good luck with the fallout shelter._

"Huh, that explains why Barricade's not here," Ratchet muttered as he felt his Pipbot rumbled, telling him that it saved Barricade's note. He heard the wall at the center back wall open up and he turned to see the hidden room with a ladder heading down.

"Alright, make sure your weapons are good to go," Srig told them. "This will take us to the prison and that's where we will get in a firefight. Now, I and the guards have given you several sessions over the years with self-defense and using guns, so you know how to use them. Just remember, these people are out to kill _us_. They will slaughter us if we don't push them back. Just… something to think about if you're feeling uneasy about killing these guys," he told them.

"I don't mind. Pests need to be dealt with accordingly," Fervent replied, smiling slightly in his direction and Srig shuttered at that comment. Ratchet agreed with his feelings. He didn't spend much time with him, but he was pretty creepy to be around.

"It is unfortunate, but we must preserve the lives here. Most of the people here are innocent and the enemies are quite savage," Goldtext said, clasping a hand on Terrarium and Tassel's shoulder, surprising both of them. "I hope you two can steel your resolve for the battle."

"Uh, y-yeah, sure," Terrarium answered with Tassel giving a shake of his head.

"Good," Goldtext said. "Now in the name of Primus," Fervent scoffed at that, "let us cast these interlopers out of here."

"…Right," Srig muttered. "I'm on point. Goldtext, take the rear. Fervent, on me, and the rest of you can decide from there," he told them as he entered the room and took the ladder. Fervent sauntered behind him, leaving them to choose. Terrarium and Tassel instinctively bumped Ratchet up, causing him to glare at the two of them before following behind Fervent down the ladder, with Terrarium following behind him. It was a short one before he placed his feet on the ground and followed the group down the tunnel with Srig leading the way with his Pipbot's flashlight. They walked along the hallway before taking a right walking down a long hallway. It took a minute before they reached a dead end. "Huh, the entrance must be around here somewhere," he muttered, looking around before he noticed a small button on the wall. "Alright, found it. Get ready, everyone," he told them as he turned his Pipbot off and Ratchet gripped his pistol tightly as he heard the button being pushed and light entered the hallway as the wall on the right opened up quietly.

He expected gunfire to ring out, but was surprised when none happened. "They didn't notice us. Fervent and Ratchet, on me," he told them as he exited the room. Fervent followed quickly behind him and Ratchet went along as quietly as he could into the room. It was a rather large room, him hiding behind a desk. From what he could see, the room was split into two, the left was the other entrance surrounded by two small offices with unbroken windows. The other half was the one he was in and contained the one desk and several large objects that looked like exercise equipment, probably the place where prisoners could stretch their limbs. He saw multiple doors on the right, which must've been the cells. The enemies were spread out, having two in one office and three in the other, one at the entrance door, one walking around, two chatting about near the cells, and one trying out one of the exercise equipment, oscillating his arms back and forth as he pulled weights. "There's a lot more than I expected," Srig muttered as he poked his head out and ducked back under. "We're going to have to be really careful."

"No kidding," Fervent muttered as he poked his head out. "I think I know which one is the leader."

"How do you know?" he asked as he poked his head up and saw one of the raiders berated one in the office. "Oh." The raider leader was a tall and stocky one, a tan pain-job that was flaking off and showing plenty of rust, and a demented look in his cracked green optics. He spent a few more seconds yelling at him before exiting the room and walking on over to the cells. He reached the center cell and opened it. He entered the room and someone was roughly thrown out to the ground on his chest. It didn't take long before Ratchet identified him as Swindle, who looked a bit dinged up. He tried to get up before the leader sent a kick in his face, causing another cut and rolling over to his back.

"You said there was a way to access the armory from here!" the leader yelled at the merchant, standing tall over him.

"There is! You just have to follow my instruction, which I know is hard for you. You haven't been around a civil place for so long-ong-ong," he groan as the leader stomp on his chest, causing a slight dent in his chest.

"Then why aren't we getting in?!" he yelled at him.

"I don't know. You have to be doing something wrong," Swindle told him, holding onto his chest.

"Or, just maybe," he muttered, grabbing a pistol and pointing it at Swindle's head, "you're lying to us!"

"No, no, I'm not!" he yelled, holding his hand out in a begging gesture.

"Why? The only reason you're still alive is because you said you had information. Since it's becoming obvious that you're completely lying about that, you've become expendable," he told him, getting ready to pull the trigger.

"No! No!" he yelled, crawling back, with the leader following along slowly, until he hit the exercise equipment.

"Are we going to do anything?" Ratchet asked, turning to the other two?

"I think… it's best if we just wait it out," Srig told him and Fervent just nodded along quietly. Ratchet gawked at the two before turning back to Swindle begging for his life. He was busy sobbing through what Ratchet assumed was a complex lie about the armory, doing whatever he could to prevent a bullet from entering his head. Judging by the look on the leader's face, it was obvious that he wasn't buying it and was going to fire it soon. Since Srig and Fervent were happy enough to let Swindle die, it was Ratchet's choice of whether he would interfere and try to save him. On one hand, Swindle was the one who set the events in motion that led to him getting a bullet in the head and for putting the whole facility in danger. On the other hand, Swindle was his friend and it's not like he intended for all this chaos to happen.

"Dammit," Ratchet muttered as he took aim with his pistol, much to the surprise of Srig.

"Ratchet, what are you-"

*Crack*

"Ah!" the leader yelled as the bullet hit his arm, causing him to drop his gun.

"Oh, frag it, concentrate fire!" Srig yelled as he popped up and fired his rifle at the patrolling raider, several of them hitting the guard's chest, one hitting the spark, and making him collapse to the ground and Fervent quickly took aim at the exerciser, sending two bullets through his head and splattering energon on the equipment.

"Ambush!" the raider yelled as he took cover behind of the equipment and Swindle did so as well, trying to avoid the crossfire. As the raider were taking cover, the door to the entrance opened and bullets were suddenly sent out and shredded the guard placed there.

"Moving up," Srig yelled as he jumped over the cover, followed by Fervent, and the two took cover behind one of the equipment together. Ratchet heard footsteps and gunshots behind him and Terrarium and Tassel took cover with him, both of them looking scared for their lives.

"This is insane," Tassel muttered as bullet and lasers flew in every direction as Joor and someone that looked like Handbrake was taking cover at the entrance and started firing at the people in the offices.

"No kidding," Ratchet muttered as he looked up and saw the two raiders that were grouped together were closing the distance and was practically right next to Fervent and Srig, about to get in cover. Ratchet took advantage of their movement and quickly fired at them, sending a bullet into one of their shoulders as Fervent and Srig popped out and finished him off with two lasers shots to the chest and one bullet through the head before taking cover again. As that was happening, Tassel and Terrarium were taking potshots at the office while Goldtext was calmly aiming at the office and fired, sending a bullet through one of the raiders head.

With the amount of enemies significantly decreased, Ratchet took the risk and started moving over to Swindle, jumping out of cover and taking cover behind the equipment. He looked around to see the guards in the office were staying close to cover thanks to fire from both entrances, the solitary raider was busy dealing with Srig and Fervent, and the leader was missing. With everyone occupied, he started dashing across the room over to Swindle at the other end of the room, being able to avoid the attention of the raiders as they had more pressing matters. It wasn't long before he jumped behind Swindle's cover and took cover with him, surprising him as he yelped in surprise at his unexpected arrival before he realized who he was. "Ratchet? Oh, scrap, I can't believe it," he chuckled, happy.

"What did you expect?" he asked as he checked him over. The dent that the raider inflicted on him wasn't very bad and the little dents and cuts were hardly worth noting, although there was quite a few of them. He was probably the raiders' personal punching bag for a while.

"You took a bullet to the head. You forgive me for thinking that you living was hopeless, especially when these bastards invaded the place," Swindle told him.

"Yeah, well, they ignored me for some reason. Apparently, killing someone in a coma is a low they won't go," Ratchet shrugged.

"Well, now that you're awake, I doubt they won't take the risk now," he told him with a smile that suddenly faded away. "Oh, scrap."

"What-" Ratchet attempted to say when he felt someone grabbed his head and cracked it against the equipment while pulling the pistol out of his grip and tossed it to the side. He felt a hand hoisted him up by the neck before smashing him against the exercise machine's bench. Ratchet felt the wind knocked out of him as the leader got on top of him, kept one hand on his neck to keep his head still, and started punching him, obviously not letting the bullet wound in his shoulder stop him. Within three heavy hits, Ratchet was already feeling dizzy and his HUD was a bit wonky. Before he got another hit in, Swindle jumped on him and sent both of them off the machine.

Ratchet steady himself as he sat up to see Swindle doing his best to inflict damage on the leader, sending a few good punches in, but the raider was much stronger, catching Swindle's third fist and using his other hand to punch him a couple of times in the side before grabbing his head and slamming him to the ground before throwing him off and getting back up. He took a second to brush himself off before eyeing Ratchet and quickly leapt towards him with his fist raised. Ratchet instinctively jumped off and his fist impacted the bench instead of his head. Ratchet quickly draw his knife out as the leader jumped on him.

They collided, Ratchet sliding his knife at his lower body and feeling it hit the leader's T-cog, but he only gave of grunt of acknowledgement of that as he backhanded Ratchet across the face, making him lose his grip on the knife and sending him to the floor on his back. As Ratchet was left trying to reorganize himself, the raider pulled the knife out of himself with a simple tug and approached Ratchet with the knife. When he saw this, he attempted to back up, but the raider quickly grabbed a hold of his leg and slid him forward as he lifted the knife up to impale Ratchet.

*Crack*

A shot near them rang out and a sudden squirt of energon escaped the raider's neck, causing him to drop the knife and grab a hold of his neck, trying to prevent it from bleeding so much.

*Crack*

Another bullet came and went straight through the back of his head and out his right optic. He gave a gasp and collapsed to his knee, using one of his hand to balance himself on the ground. He tried to speak, but the hole in his throat was causing him to make only weird gurgle sounds with static interference.

*Crack* *Crack*

Two more shots came out and went straight through the center of his spark. The raider leader gave one last static gasp before his arm fell out from under him and he collapsed on his side, energon pooling from his wound. Ratchet gazed at the corpse before he turned to the shooter, who happened to be Swindle on the ground, aiming Ratchet's pistol at the corpse. Once he realized the corpse wasn't moving anymore, he put his gun down and fell back in relieve. At this point, the rest of the raiders were almost dead, with only one at the office with a missing arm and the one at the exercise equipment, engaged in a knife fight with Fervent with Srig trying to take aim at the raider. In a second, Fervent suddenly raised his leg and smashed it into his knee, dislocating it and eliciting a scream from the intruder. The raider gasped as Fervent suddenly got behind him, wrapped his arm around his neck in a chokehold, and thrusted his knife through the small of his back, piercing his back and silencing the raider, making him spit up energon from his mouth before Fervent let go and let him collapse to the ground with a smirk, leaving only the one in the office left alive, who was summarily taken care of by Goldtext in the other office shooting his barely exposed leg to make him fall out of cover to Joor's bullets.

With all the raiders dead, a feeling of calm enter the room. Ratchet got on his feet as Joor was checking on Handbrake, who got shot again, only this one was in the less valuable left arm; Goldtext was comforting Terrarium and Tassel, the latter who was shot in the right shoulder; and Fervent and Srig were walking over to Swindle and Ratchet, the former wiping the energon off his blade by wiping it on his arms, which the latter was grimacing at. Ratchet reached Swindle first and crouched over the weary figure. "Thanks for saving my life," Ratchet thanked.

"No problem. I've learn to pay my debts," Swindle told him as he sat up.

"If you want to pay your debts, you have a long way to go, considering you're the reason this all happen," Srig told him as the two stopped in front of them.

"Yeah… I'm working on it," Swindle muttered. "I got more since you all saved my life."

"Well, you can thank Ratchet for that. We were comfortable just letting you die until Ratchet fired his gun," Fervent told him with a shrug and Srig turned to glare at him.

"Oh, well, good to see I still got one person who cares about me," Swindle muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"I don't know if you deserve it, but I couldn't just watch you get executed like that," Ratchet said.

"Yeah, I was lucky to delay them as much as I did. I told them this massive lie about the jail being connected to the armory somehow and they swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. Reminds me of my time as a used T-cog seller," he told them.

"Speaking of the armory, we were wondering if you had any explosives to break into the armory," Srig questioned him.

"Nah, I don't. I may have smuggled some things out of the armory, but not explosives. Too dangerous to pass that around," he answered.

"At least you have some sense," Srig muttered, "but now we have no way of actually getting in."

"Well, I do have one half of the security codes," Swindle told them, "but Siren has the other half and you need both to activate it."

"Well, we don't have the code, but Ratchet does have a hacking device," he told him.

"Wait, seriously?" Swindle asked, turning over to the doctor. "Never took you for the hacking type."

"Got it off Pyrobyte's effects," he told him.

"I've seen him pick door locks. I'm interested in seeing how he does in the hacking department," Srig commented.

"Wow, nice." Swindle nodded as he tried to get up. "Well, let's get the- oooooooh!" Swindle groaned as he got up.

"Are you okay?" Ratchet asked, looking him over.

"Sorry, just… energon deprivation. These slaggers have been starving me for the past few days. I really need something," Swindle muttered as he hold on to Ratchet's shoulders for support.

"We'll get you some on the way to the armory. Ratchet, is your head okay? That cut looks pretty bad," Srig asked him.

"Cut?" Ratchet asked as he felt the right side of his head and felt a cut their leaking energon. "Huh, I didn't notice, but it should be fine. It feels like a shallow cut," he told him.

"Alright, rest a little bit while I go check on the others," Srig told him as he went off to go check on Goldtext's group, leaving Fervent behind to look over them.

"Ugh, once again, thanks for saving me," Swindle thanked them.

"Yes, and thank you for exposing us to the outside's dangers," Fervent thanked him sarcastically.

"Yeah… no one is going to let me forget that, are they?" he asked him.

"I highly doubt so," he replied.

"Ugh… I never should've given Pyrobyte that gun," he muttered.

"Why did you give him that gun, anyway?" Ratchet asked, glaring at him.

"I thought it was for self-defense. He told me about Barricade having it out for him and thought he was killing to sneak in his room at night and kill him. I didn't think he was going to start a shooting rampage," he told him earnestly.

"I highly doubt you did it just because he said he was in danger," Fervent muttered.

"Nothing's free, especially protection," Swindle muttered. "I had him get a few things for me and collect a bit of information on people in exchange for the pistol."

"Now why is that?"

"Hey, if you got information on people, you got power. I knew a few people were jealous of my job, so I wanted some blackmail on them," he answered.

"You're not painting yourself in a positive light," Ratchet told him.

"Well, my reputation is already shot. Might as well drag it in the mud a little bit more for you," he told them with a shrug.

"Huh, I like that. So often, you see people tell more and more lies to excuse their descent into moral degeneracy. People who accept the corruption of their soul and not deny it are worthy of respect," Fervent praised.

"I don't know whether to be honored or ashamed," Swindle responded, unnerved.

"It was a compliment," he smirked.

"And that's exactly why I'm unsure of how to feel," he muttered.

"Hmm, speaking of unsure feelings, why did you want to save Swindle so much, Ratchet? I'm unsure of why you would want to save him so much," he questioned him.

"He's my friend and he was about to be executed. I don't know why you would be willing to just watch him die," he said, insulted.

"Hmm, I suppose you can call it a difference in culture," he shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hmm, now isn't really an appropriate time or place, but if there is a good time later, I might let you in on my culture. Hell, I might just let you help me out," he chuckled darkly.

"Okay… _freak_ ," Swindle muttered for the two of them.

"Now that isn't nice," he replied with that ominous smile as Srig came up behind him.

"Alright, Tassel took a bullet in the shoulder, but it isn't bad. Goldtext and Terrarium are both unharmed. Fervent, stay here and keep the prison lockdown with them. Ratchet and Swindle, follow me," he ordered and walked to the entrance, with Ratchet helping Swindle as they walked across the room to the entrance. Srig stopped as they reached the office and looked in the right one to see Joor taking care of Handbrake. "Is our only nuclear technician still here doing well?"

"Fine enough," Joor said as he pressed a finger into the bullet hole.

"Gah, watch it, you aft," Handbrake yelled at him.

"I think it would've been best just to keep him away from all firefights," Srig told him. "Getting shot twice isn't very fun, I imagine"

"Getting shot in two weeks is only fun for masochists," Handbrake told them. "Besides, Ratchet, our coma doctor, took a bullet through his head and he's ready to go."

"Is coma doctor my new nickname?" Ratchet asked.

"It's passing around. Got a nice ring to it," Joor told him.

"Great, let's keep going," Srig told the duo and tried to ignore another long conversation over something pointless. The three went down the steps down to the barricade room, where a mech and a femme were watching it together and was pleased to see the three walk out. "Hey, mission accomplish. Keep the barricade up," he told them as the trio walked past them to the stairs and took the steps up, making Swindle grunt with each step up. Obviously, he really needed to get some energon. They reached the hall and they continued forward to the door ahead of them and went down a set of steps to another room. The room was a bright, happy place colored in a highly comforting red-and-white color scheme. There were tables and booths set up for people to sit in and what appeared to be a counter. There were another entrance to the right side and a door on the left. At the back-left corner began a counter that went to the center-left side of the room with stools for people to sit on. The trio moved over to a nearby booth and took a seat in it, Ratchet and Swindle next to each other with Ratchet on the outside and Srig sitting by himself. A mech came over, being a simple blue bot with blue optics and a datapad in hand came over to them.

"What will you have?" he asked, ready to take their orders.

"Just a glass for each of us with nothing else in it," he told him.

"Right, coming on up," he said, writing it in the datapad and heading to the back.

"Oh, thank Primus, I really need some energon," Swindle muttered, rubbing his chest.

"Right, don't care. Did you learn anything while you were with them?" Srig asked him.

"Um, I don't know, maybe? I remember them repeating something a few times. What was it called?" Swindle asked himself, rubbing the back of his head.

"Was they talking about something like a weapon of some sort?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah, it had something to do with that armory. I think, yeah… they said they needed whatever was in there to win a war," Swindle told them.

"A war? Then they must be a pretty large force if they're engaging in a war," he told them.

"Yeah, and I think they want to establish this place as a possible base," he told them.

"They're not trying to preserve it," Ratchet muttered.

"They came from nuclear oblivion. I highly doubt cleanliness is something that they care for," Srig rebuked.

"Good point," he admitted.

"You know, if they have a large force, they'll overwhelm us at some point," Srig muttered. "We're basically running on limited time."

"That's correct," Ratchet muttered. "With the amount of people dead or missing, it's very likely that we'll be overrun sooner or later."

"Well, what if we get the other group they're warring against to help us?" Swindle asked them.

"Are you kidding? They're probably just as bad, if not worse, than these guys," Srig doubted him.

"Well, what else do you want us to do? Attrition will kill us before we can successfully fight them back," Swindle told him as the waiter brought their drinks to them and gave each of them their glass.

"Here you go," he told them, crossing his arms.

"Thank you, Crystal," Srig thanked him as the three took a drink from it. Ratchet and Srig drank it and enjoyed it. Swindle had a different expression.

"Puah!" Swindle yelled, spitting it out. "What is that?"

"Oh, sorry. I must've mixed your drink with the cave fungus," Crystal apologized smugly, causing Swindle to glare at him.

"Why you little-"

"Crystal, please bring Swindle an actual glass of energon this time," Srig interrupted him, hoping to end a potential conflict.

"Why? It's all his fault that these outsiders are rushing in and causing chaos," he told him, glaring at Swindle.

"Fine," Srig muttered before passing his glass to Swindle. "Then get me another drink, alright?"

"Erk… fine," he scoffed, walking off.

"Wow, I really feel like public enemy number one," Swindle muttered, taking the glass and drinking from it and giving a pleased moan. "Oh, I needed that."

"What do you expect?" Ratchet sarcastically asked. "Now, about this other group."

"What, you think they might help us, too?" Srig asked.

"Well, Swindle has a point. We can hold them off for a while, but sooner or later, we'll be overrun. We need help from someone," he told him.

"Ugh…," Srig muttered. "Let's get Siren out first, before we decide on this. He's the Overseer, so he has the final decision." Crystal returned with a glass of energon and gave it to Srig.

"Here you go," Crystal said and Srig gave a nod before grabbing it. Crystal walked on off and left the three alone.

"So, rescuing Siren from his office. How are we going to do that?" Ratchet asked.

"Full frontal assault. Once we get the weapons from the armory, our people should be able to fight back a lot more efficiently," Srig told him.

"We could also use the secret passages to move close to it. Is there a room nearby to it?" Swindle asked.

"Well, the lounge is pretty much right next to it, but I have no idea whose room could lead to it. We can't waste our time on it," he told him.

"That would be mine."

"Gah!" the three yelled as they turned to see Dwell standing over them with a dull smile.

"Primus, you are a creepy mortician," Swindle muttered as the three calmed down.

"I'll take that as a compliment, you wonderful specimen," he smiled at him. "The need to rescue you has given me so many more bodies to explore, not to mention you causing this in the first place. You deserve all my praise."

"Primus, why do I get all the wackos?" he asked in disbelief.

"Right… your room has the secret entrance to the lounge?" Srig asked.

"That is correct. I never understood the use for it," he told them. "Made me wish I had Tacklebolt's room so that I can get to the morgue uninterrupted."

"Which room is yours?" Srig asked.

"From the atrium, I'm on the left hallway to the second door on the left. It should be easy to find. I painted a black X on it," he told them.

"Is everything about you creepy?" Ratchet asked.

"That's subjective, although I am fascinated with death. So if that is the source of my 'creepiness,' then yes," he told them.

"It would've been so much easier if you just said yes," Ratchet muttered.

"Right, well, here," pulling a keycard out and handing it to Srig. "For entrance into my room."

"Ah… thanks," Srig nodded.

"Yes… now go make some more corpses for me, okay?" he asked before heading off, leaving the three alone.

"Frag… I'd go out on a suicide mission to get help from that opposing faction if it means getting away from that sicko," Swindle muttered.

"Count me in," Ratchet agreed.

"Well, are we all refreshed?" Srig asked them and they both nodded. "Okay, let's head on up to the armory," he told them, getting up with the other two following along. Srig led the way back to the previous room and took the one door they haven't enter yet and went down the down the set of stairs to another hallway. They walked forward and took a door to the right, entering a red colored room. In front of them was a sturdy metal door that appeared to be locked by two large bolts keeping it in place and a computer was on each side of it. Inside the room was a large, burly mech who was red everywhere with solid blue optics and was obviously a tank due to the tank barrel sticking out from his chest. He turned to the three that enter and immediately set his optics on Swindle.

"WOW! You have some nerve coming back after you stole from here, you thief," he threaten, cracking his knuckles.

"Never let it down," Swindle grumbled.

"Hey, Warpath, calm down!" Srig told him, holding his hands up. "We need him to get in."

"Why? Does he have a code?" Warpath scoffed.

"Uh, yeah," Swindle nodded.

"WHAT! You sneaky… you stole that from ME!" Warpath continued to yell at Swindle.

"Maybe!" Swindle replied.

"Swindle, is there any other crimes you've done that you haven't told us about?" Ratchet asked him with a death stare.

"Maybe a couple."

"Okay, I think I need to (WHAM) knock your lights out," Warpath threaten, approaching Swindle.

"Warpath, we need him for now," Srig told him. "You're not the only one who really want to punch the scrap out of Swindle, but he's useful for now."

"But I wanna punch him!" Warpath repeated.

"Yes, yes, but you can do that later, when these invaders are kicked out of here. After that, I'll let you get a couple of good punches in," he told him.

"Hey, wait, what?!" Swindle asked.

"Hmph, fine. Once we (BLAM) kick these raiders out, then I'll kick his aft," he told them, making way for them.

"Right, Swindle, input your code. Ratchet, I hope you're as good of a hacker as you are a lockpicker," Srig told him.

"I hope so," Ratchet muttered as he went to the left computer while Swindle went to the right one. The computer was flat one built into the wall, which was a pretty fancy one. Ratchet brought his cylindrical device out and looked for a place to insert it. He saw a small hole next to it on the right and figured that's where it belonged, so he inserted it inside and a holographic screen came out and a bunch of symbols and letters formed, occasionally forming words. It was just like the dream, except these were six letters long.

WRETCH, CROUCH, POURED, FRINGE, FOLLOW, BETTER, TOUTED, ALMOST, LOUNGE, BINGED

Ratchet examined them and clicked on the first one.

0 OUT OF 6

Not off to a good start, but it did remove a few from the selection list.

POURED, FOLLOW, ALMOST, LOUNGE, BINGED

Once again, he clicked on the first one.

2 out of 6

Okay, if that's true, there was only two left.

LOUNGE, BINGED

With only two left, he clicked on the first one.

0 out of 4

With that, he clicked on what had to be right.

PASSWORD CORRECT

He unlocked the computer. He looked on the screen and saw one option to open the door. He looked over to see Swindle waiting for him. "You've got it?" the merchant asked him.

"Yeah, I got it," Ratchet replied.

"Alright, we must activate it within five seconds of each other. We'll do it on my mark. You ready?" Swindle asked him.

"Yes."

"Okay, five, four, three, two, one, hit it," Swindle said and Ratchet clicked on 'open door.' They heard a rumbling sound and the two bolts to the door removed themselves as the door split apart to open up into the room. The group entered the room to find a wide variety of weapons placed against the walls, mostly including assault rifles and laser rifles, perfect for the corridor based fighting in the shelter. The exceptions were a couple of sniper rifles, a few high-impact pistols, and the boxes of explosives and ammo around the room. "Oooooh, yes," Swindle moaned.

"YEAH, raiders won't know what hits them!" Warpath celebrated, pumping his fists in the air. "I wonder if I can find some tank shells."

"Right, I'll go inform everyone about this and we'll stage an attack on the people trapping Siren in his room," Srig told them as he headed out. "Make sure Swindle doesn't sneak any weapons out!" he gave one last piece of advice as he headed out.

"RIGHT!" Warpath nodded, turning to glare at Swindle. "Don't you do anything, thief!"

"I know, I know," Swindle chuckled, holding his hand up and stepping away from the boxes of explosives "I won't do anything wrong."

"Huh-huh…," Ratchet muttered as he walked around the room and looked around at all the weapons. "Where did Vault-Tec get all of these weapons?"

"I… may have helped a bit with that," Swindle told him. "Vault-Tec said they needed guns and I got them guns."

"So you're an arms dealer as well?" Ratchet asked, sounding incensed.

"Yeah, you can add that to my list of crimes, but if I'm doing my math right, I'm certainly not the only one they knew. They might've even have contacts in the military," Swindle told him, looking around.

"Huh, Vault-Tec has provided protection to us and all the other vaults out there, yet we know so little about them," he muttered.

"They're secretive, even to the employees like me and all the guards here. Siren might know something, but that's the only thing he is quiet about," he muttered.

"Siren said that he had no idea. I believe him," Warpath told him.

"Come on, he's the Overseer. He has to know something," he told them.

"He might. He might no. Does it matter? Vault-Tec has to be destroyed, as well as the rest of the world," Ratchet told him.

"Yeah, that's also true," Swindle agreed, taking a seat on a crate. "Although, not everything outside is completely destroyed. At the very least, those raiders learned to survive."

"At a cost."

"WHAT THE!" Warpath yelled, looking beside him to see Dwell standing beside him wearing that same dull smile on his face.

"How are you so quiet?" Swindle asked.

"Oh, sorry, I just learned that you intended to open the armory. There was something I needed to mention about the raiders," he said as he walked across the room and picked a gun off the wall, this one being one of those high-caliber pistols. "I examine the raider Ratchet killed with a knife. The insides were, well… a mess. The insides were partially melted together, creating a unique Cybertronian. Wires merge to become one. Holes from radiation. Organs slightly rusted through thanks to radiation speeding it up. If he was in a hospital, they would put him in emergency care at the instant," he told them as he grabbed a crate and placed it underneath his left arm.

"If that's true, then he wouldn't be standing and fighting in the first place," Ratchet told him.

"Ah, that's the beauty of it. The radiation also gave positive effects, basically increasing their strength and pain tolerance and their ability to intake radiation. Quite fascinating," he told them as he made his way out of the room. "Do take care and make more bodies for me to examine. They are fascinating," he told them, leaving the room.

"Wow… what a creep," Swindle muttered.

"Yeah... HEY! Did he take a gun and a box of ammo with him?" he asked.

"He sure did," Ratchet told him.

"DAMMIT!" he cursed.

"Calm down, Warpath. We need you to stay here," he attempted to told him.

"I know… but he just walk in here and took it."

"Frankly, I let him. He's too much of a creep to protest to," Swindle chimed in.

"I agree with that," Ratchet nodded. "Morticians are like that in general, from all the ones I met."

"Mortician and (BLAM) coroner," Warpath corrected.

"Right. I just hope we don't end up on his slab. I don't want him looking around inside of me," Swindle told him.

"Agreed."

"Right, word is being passed around and we'll have to load them up with guns for the upcoming firefight," Srig said as he entered the room.

"So, we're going to carry this off soon?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah," he told them, looking around the room. "This place is a thing of beauty."

"Military?" Ratchet asked.

"Uh, kind of. I didn't really like it, but I always liked guns. Especially when we're using them to save the day," Srig told him.

"I don't know if we'll save the day, but I'm sure we'll (BLAM) kick so much aft to rescue Siren," Warpath told them.

"Yeah… let's just hope Siren can hold out for a little longer."


	7. Into the Wasteland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't want to update this back-to-back, but I really want to. Deal with it and enjoy.
> 
> Should finally update Despair pretty soon.

"Five minutes until we attack!" Joor yelled to everyone as they were waiting in the barricade room in front of the jail. "Remember, Srig's group takes the jail entrance back to the dorms to access Dwell's room while the rest of us will take on a frontal assault. To the hallway to the Overseer's office hallway. We should expect minimal resistance until we get to the hallway, which will be loaded with enemies. It's recommended that you be very careful as we attack the enemy." With that last advice, he went back to checking weapons as everyone else was getting ready to go. Ratchet was with Swindle on the barricade, the two of them both checking their pistols. "You should've got a rifle," Swindle told him as he finished checking the pistol. "Slaggers won't let me have one."

"I'm not much of a killer," Ratchet told him. "I like pistols. Doesn't pack much of a punch."

"You're going to have to beef up your armaments to push these guys back and especially if we're going outside in that irradiated hellhole," he told him.

"Maybe, but for now, this should be okay," he insisted.

"Hmph," Swindle scoffed as Fervent took a seat next to them, shouldering a rifle on his shoulder. "And what do you want, crazy guy?"

"Nothing. We're going to the lounge together, so I might as well hang around with you two. It's going to be the three of us plus Srig going up the lounge while Joor takes the far larger group up the halls to Siren's area," Fervent told them.

"Huh, how interesting," Swindle muttered. "Now can you be creepy somewhere else?"

"Not particularly. You'll have to tolerate me when we attack the enemies in the halls," he told them.

"Yeah, great…," Swindle sarcastically groaned.

"Hmph, no need to be rude to me. We have to vanquish these foes together," Fervent reminded him.

"'Vanquish these foes.' Who talks like that?" he questioned in disbelief.

"I do. Is that a problem?"

"Please, don't argue. If I'm going to die, I rather not end with you two bickering with each other," Ratchet complained to them, putting a palm to his head in pain.

"I deeply apologize. I usually don't engage in petty squabbles," Fervent bowed his head slightly to the doctor.

"No surprise," Swindle scoffed.

"Swindle…," Ratchet growled.

"What?"

"I think he wants you to apologize to me," the doctor told the merchant.

"Why? He would be on my short list of people not to make deals with. I mean, come on, just listen to him," he chided.

"Which would honestly be justified in pre-armageddon, but we have more important matters to contend with," Fervent fought back.

"Swindle, he's right. Please calm down. We're all on the same side," Ratchet told him.

"Hmph… fine," Swindle sighed. "But, for real, even you got to admit that you're a bit of a creep," Swindle told him.

"I wouldn't necessary said that, just a difference in culture. Please remember that I find what the lot of you do and stand for quite strange as well," Fervent reminded them.

"See, we're dealing with a culture clash and the sooner you two get over it, the sooner I have less headaches and we can get back to the more relevant situation of invaders killing anyone that gets in their way," Ratchet told them. Swindle crossed his arms and frowned at him while Fervent just stared calmly at him.

"…Fine," Swindle agreed, holding his hand out for him to shake it. Fervent stared at the hand and then backed up at him.

"Is this an agreement?" he asked Ratchet.

"Uh, yes, it's the way all merchants and people in general complete an informal agreement. Seriously, have you never met another merchant?" he asked.

"Minimal involvement. The head priest did all the dealings with them," he told them.

"Head priest? Were you part of the Church of Primus?" Ratchet asked.

"No… I despised them," Fervent told him before turning back to Swindle, grabbed a hold of his hand, and gave it a firm shake. "Let us end them."

"That's something everyone can get behind," Swindle grinned before letting go.

"We still got a few minutes before we head out. I want to know what exactly this head priest was," Ratchet questioned him.

"You don't have to know. It's hard to explain without some very important background that we, frankly, don't have enough time for," he told him.

"Well, was it a cult or something?" Swindle asked.

"I would say no, but you would say yes. It always ends up that way until it gains enough swell," he cryptically told them.

"I hate it when people answer questions with enigmas," Ratchet growled in annoyance.

"I'm sorry, but, if we do get to go out together, I would have no problems with explaining it to you two about it then," he told them.

"If we're alive," Swindle muttered.

"Are you three doing okay?" Srig asked as he came up to them.

"Kind of," Swindle answered for them.

"Well, can you get fully better? We're heading out in a minute and I don't want anything to go wrong," he told them, scratching the side of his head.

"We have. Just difference in cultures," Ratchet told him.

"Yeah, yeah, Fervent's weird, Swindle's a dishonest sneak, and you're actually a morally responsible person. You three together is a weird mish-mash, but you appear good enough. Much better than the group I was with in the military. Those were some screwy people," he told them.

"Why? I'm sure the military has some good standards for people to get in," the doctor questioned.

"You would be surprised how surprisingly low they are," he chuckled. "Trust me, when the worst I can say about the guards that I'm stationed with here in this fallout shelter is Joor's over-patriotism, Modaro's flirtatiousness, and Jadanarano's overcompensation, I can tell you that I'm relieved. I've always felt like the sane, normal guy on my previous team and never really meshed well. Okay, no one on the team meshed well at all, but I really couldn't keep up with their insanity and brutality. Glad that most of them are dead and the rest disappeared to never show up on my radar again," he told them.

"Huh, sounds interesting," Fervent muttered.

"Interesting, but chaotic," he added. "Frankly I like this a lot more, before it all went to hell in a turbofox nest, but hey, can't ask for everything."

"Nothing good lasts forever," Ratchet muttered.

"Although it wasn't that good to begin with," Swindle muttered. "It's hard to get good when the world was turned into an apocalyptic place in one day and now that world is actively trying to kill us."

"True enough. Place is far from paradise, but it was alright and I rather not have these invaders ruin it," Srig told them.

"Alright, Srig, get your group moving! We're heading out!" Joor told him as he began leading his group of ten out to get through the halls.

"Alright, I hope you guys are ready to go," he told them as he headed for the entrance to the prison.

"We'll find out," Fervent said as the three of them got up from the barricade and followed Srig up the room to the prison. They quickly climbed up the intersectional hallway up to the prison where Dwell was busy observing the dead body of the raider leader.

"Hello there," the mortician greeted them, straightening up from his bent down position over the dead body and turned to face the group fully, holding a knife in hand with dried energon on it.

"Dwell, we heading out through the secret entrance," Srig told the morgue manager as he headed out.

"Aw, best of luck. Remember, black X," Dwell reminded the group.

"We got it," Srig acknowledged.

"Oh, and Ratchet, here" Dwell said, holdin out the hand that held Ratchet's knife to the doctor. Ratchet glanced at him before taking the nervously yet carefully. 

"Okay…." Ratchet muttered, grabbing it carefully before placing it in subspace. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome. Best of luck," Dwell gave his blessing then returned to his task examining the dead body. His attention completely absorbed, he gave no second glance as the group walked out of the room through the secret entrance. After a couple of minutes of moving through the tunnels, they arrived in Barricade's room. Srig went over to the door, carefully unlock it with the key card and pulled it open. He stuck his head out and looked around before waving them over.

"All clear," he whispered as he quietly walked out with them behind him. They walked to the left to the intersection, crouching along quietly until they reached it and Srig looked around. "Hold it," he whispered as they heard a door opening.

"Look, it's your turn. Quit being a whiny glitch and look around," the gruff voiced said.

"Come on, do I have to?" A very whiny, femimine voice said.

"Yes and it's perfectly safe, we have the conservatory and we got two posted at the other two door's hallways looking over the other areas. There shouldn't be anyone here," he tried to comfort her.

"Then why bother?"

"Just in case. You never know. Ring us up if you see anyone that shouldn't be here and put up a good fight if you do," he told her before the door close.

"What a slagger," the voice said before they heard footsteps. They hugged the wall and waited as the person came into sight, being a rusted up motorcycle femme in a barely visible blue and gray color scheme. She took a left and started walking down the hall, completely missing the four hiding. Srig motioned for them to hold back as he holstered his rifle and pulled out a combat knife. The enemy strolled across the hallway, muttering to herself about something as Srig got into stabbing distance. Almost immediately, Srig jumped on the significantly smaller individual, eliciting a yelp from the motorcycle, as he brought his knife up and brought it down into the back of her neck. The motorcycle started moaning and laid still, due to her severed spinal strut, as Srig brought the knife back out and jammed it into the back of her head, silencing her. Srig turned back to them and motioned them over, the three obeyed, quickly running over to him.

"Good kill," Fervent congratulated as Srig pulled his knife out of the femme's lifeless body and sheathed it.

"Yeah, not bad, although I was a bit slower. She may have had enough time to signal to the others about us," he told them.

"Well, the door's right here," Swindle said, knocking against the door next to them. "Let's head inside."

"Right," he agreed as he got the card out and inserted it into a card reader next to the door, unlocking it. "Alright, you three head in first. I'm going to hide the body in here," he told them before matching words with action and moved towards the dead femme. Ratchet didn't hesitated, following behind Swindle inside as Fervent stood in the doorway. The two of them waited for a few seconds as Srig entered, carrying the body over his shoulder and laying her down as Fervent closed the door behind him. "Okay, the spilled energon should camouflage with the debris and filth in that, so they shouldn't questioned her disappearance. Probably assume she went outside her boundaries and got killed."

"Right, let me go open the secret passage," Swindle said, heading to the locker, allowing Ratchet a good look around the room. Dwell apparently was a decorative sort, posting many posters showing anatomy of a Cybertronian, posters of horror movies, and most disturbingly, actual photos of mutilated corpses on his slab.

"Wow, I severely underestimated how disturbing Dwell is," Ratchet muttered, walking over to the desk.

"I must admit, this is a bit much, even for me," Fervent said as he examined a photo of a mutilated body. "These must be his favorite autopsies."

"That's… intriguing," Srig said, trying and failing at holding back disgust. "Glad he's not against us."

"Indeed," Ratchet agreed as he opened a drawer and found a datapad. He picked it up and looked at it. It held a couple of entries and Ratchet looked them over.

' _Hmm, things are getting quite interesting and I'm certainly happy about it, even though it is life threatening. Pyrobyte did me a huge favor a finally gave me an autopsy, blowing a hole in his head. Cause of death was easy to determine –single bullet to the head that went one way and out the other, destroying function of the brain module and CPU- but the details were interesting. Pyrobyte had a piece of ultra-sharp metal stuck in his head, which was actually a leviathan plate, which are used to heal head injuries. The bullet hit it at the right angle to split it in two on the way out, leading to a rather messy exit. One half went into Ratchet's head and the other is currently missing, not that it's important. Still making me help find it, so I'm trying to make measurements – I dabble in physics- to figure out where it would've gone, so I'll figure it out soon and they can stop bothering me and I can get back to autopsying Pyrobyte. I want to look at every part of him necessary._

Ratchet shuddered at that last sentence. It gave him more incentive to not die and have him autopsied by him. Still, at least it gave him more information about what happen at the incident and the bullet's path. With that, he looked at the next one.

_We've got a problem. I did the math for where the bullet travel based on the exit wound, the confirmation of where Ratchet's half went, using whatever bullet fragments Ambulon fished out of his helm to get me some idea as to what the bullet looked like, and it didn't turn out well. My calculations said it went the direction of the nuclear reactor, so I went over there and took a look and found it lodged in the reactor._

_That's a problem._

_Look, I have a fascination with death and all things related to it, I will admit, but I'm not fatalistic. Still, this is interesting. Could make things more intriguing, as long as it doesn't go into total catastrophic meltdown. I'm very unsure how this will go. I'll be informing Siren about this after I finish my entry –my audial receptors are going to suffer- and get someone who knows how the reactor works on it. I wonder how this will turn out. Hope for the best, but prepare yourself for the worst. I'm packing my tools up for a mass exodus after I'm done with Pyrobyte, just in case. I may be optimistic, but I'm not stupid._

Ratchet raised an eyebrow at that. He had to give Dwell credit, he was pretty smart, being able to use all those variables to figure out where the bullet went and what caused it to split after exiting the helm. It would be nice if he show that side more often and not the nightmarish persona that he always puts up. He might actually be a good person to talk to if he could just stop acting like a serial killer.

"Alright. Entrance is open. Let's get going," Swindle told them as he backed off to let Srig take the lead.

"Alright, I'll lead. Swindle, right behind me. Ratchet, make sure Swindle doesn't stab me in the back and Fervent can watch the rear," he told them as he turned his Pipbot's light on and entered the entrance.

"Never going to let it go, will you?" the merchant wondered bemusedly as he stepped in behind Srig and Ratchet followed along with Fervent tailing him. They went forward for quite a bit before they found a ladder heading up, which they climbed, with complaints from Swindle and his wide frame. They reached the top of it and went forward for a little bit more before taking a left forward and having to go down another ladder, with more complaints from Swindle, as they went down and went forward slightly to a dead end.

""Alright, let me look around for a button or a hatch," Srig said, looking around before looking down to see a square line in the floor. "Found it, I think," he said, crouching and pulling it up slightly, allowing some light to come into the secret passage. he turned off his Pipbot's light and bent down, peeking around the room to see a couple of people inside. One was a lean-looking black-yellow-and-red racer sitting in a chair, head cradled on his headand elbow propped on the armrest, he appeared to be nodding off and the other one appeared to be a slightly larger one with a black-and-brown color scheme wason his knee, staring blankly at a wall. The room itself consisted of a large table in the center, counters on the side, and a fridge to keep cool glasses of energon with the door out currently closed. The room's state was pretty good, only having a few things messed up and some dents in the fridge's door. The hatch appeared to be over the counter, allowing people to use that to get down. "Two of them, shouldn't be too much trouble," Srig whispered to the others.

"What are they doing?" Swindle asked.

"One's looks like he's napping and the other is just staring at the wall," Srig told him.

"Staring at the wall. That's strange," he muttered.

"No kidding. Looks like not all of them are sane," he said as he heard something. "Quiet, someone's entering." The door opened and a large, brown colored figure with spikes on the front of his shoulders and yellow visor entered the room. He had a large gun in his hand that looked like a minigun of some sort.

"Wake up!" the newcomer shouted, making the one on the chair jumped up to his feet and clumsily saluted him. The one staring at the wall merely turned to look at him before standing up and looking at him with a blank expression. "Listen here, Bladeguard and Faraway. We got most of our men in preparation for the attacking defenders. I need you to follow me," he told them.

"Why?" the racer asked, scratching his neck, causing a few flecks to come off.

"Faraway, the room I need access to requires three people to enter it," the yellow-visor mech told them.

"But, we need to make sure that the Overseer doesn't sneak out while we're away and join the others," the other one, Bladeguard, said, his voice as blank as his expression. "He might take this moment to escape and we won't be able to kill him."

"To where? The only way out is to enemy lines. He wouldn't risk it. Besides, I doubt he'll peek out of his room, especially since he got that damn lock working. That door is far more durable than I could give it credit for. Come on," he ordered, heading out.

"Right behind you, Turmoil," Faraway said, the two of them following Turmoil out of the room and closing the door behind them, leaving no one behind.

"All clear. Let's go inside," he said, opening the hatch all the way and dropping down to the counter and jumping to the floor. Swindle was next to exit followed closely by Ratchet with Fervent coming right behind them and closing the hatch behind him.

"What are they after?" Swindle asked, half-asking and half-musing. "What would require three people together to open it?"

"I don't know and I don't care. They're leaving themselves open to Siren's office, so let's get going," Srig told them, moving to the door and peeking it open. "Alright, I see the intersection basically right next to us. Let's go," he told them, opening the door completely and moving on out, the three following quickly behind them. There was no one around and the group quickly made their way to the intersection. Srig took a look around to the left and right and grimaced. "Enemies both sides, but there's thankfully only one at Siren's door and the other two guards are looking the other way. Let's go, quietly," he told them, moving forward. The group moved quickly, Ratchet spare a moment to look behind them to see the two guards leaning against the walls facing each other, chatting together about something. Ratchet turned back to see another raider at Siren's closed door, who appeared to be examining the door over, looking for a way to break through it. Srig quicken his pace and brought his knife back out for the kill. He closed the distance quickly and grabbed a hold of the guard's head and pushed it against the door before stabbing him three times through the back of his head, ceasing movement from the raider and letting him down softly. "Alright, Ratchet, I hope you can unlock it," Srig said.

"I'll try," Ratchet said, heading for the door lock and finding the energon lock quickly while the other three aimed at the other two guards. The holographic image came up and Ratchet went to work, this one having three segmented circles on it this time and having the new challenge of connecting at the corners as well. Looking at it, Ratchet saw that quite a bit of it looked very similar to each other and twisted the segmented parts around, it was quite confusing and Ratchet knew he had to be quick. The timer gave him thirty seconds to complete it and he worked quickly, spinning the segments around to find multiple combinations that could work if it wasn't for being slightly off at a couple of lines. With fifteen seconds left, he already went through five good-looking combinations that failed at a couple of segments. Obviously, this was one of the hardest possible combinations that locks could do, which meant he was going to have problems down the line if he encounters a lot more of these. With five seconds left, Ratchet was getting desperate and moved the segments quickly for one last combinations in the hopes that it would work. All of sudden, the screen flashed green in approval and the screen went away with the door unlocking. "Got it," he told them as it opened and he went inside the office only to be greeted by Siren quickly aiming his gun at him frombehind his desk. "Woah, friendly," Ratchet said,holding his hands up in the air.

"AH, GOOD TO SEE YOU!" Siren greeted and Ratchet inwardly groan.

"We've been made!" Srig yelled as both him, Fervent, and Swindle took aim at the two guards and fired, the two of them unable to get ready fast enough. Several bullets and lasers impacted, making energon spurt out and causing them to collapse to the ground.

"SORRY! I ASSUME YOU TOOK THE AREA OVER!" Siren quickly apologized.

"We'll worry about that later –ah!" he shouted as Fervent suddenly pushed him into the side room together as a swarm of bullets came their way and Swindle instinctively pushed Ratchet inside as well and Siren ducked behind his desk as the bullets went over him and hit the screens behind him. Ratchet was surprised at what happened, wondering what was happening as more bullets was heading towards them.

"What is that?" Ratchet asked.

"It's that Turmoil guy with a minigun," Swindle told him. "Where did he get that?"

"HE CRACKED THE TERNARY CODE!?" Siren asked as he crawled out of the desk towards the locker.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I have no idea," Ratchet told him.

"SCRAP!" he yelled as he opened it and grabbed a device. He stood back up and ran to the entrance and peek around to the room Fervent and Srig was, seeing the two of them inside the room, avoiding gunfire. "HERE!" he yelled, quickly tossing it high to avoid the gunfire and to the two, which Srig catch. "WE'LL TALK LATER! FIND THE SECRET PASSAGE IN THERE AND GET OUT!" he ordered.

"Got it!" Srig yelled over the gunfire and closed the door with Siren doing the same, leaving the bullets to hit the door harmlessly.

"Okay, what are we going to do? We're stuck here now," Swindle asked as he and Ratchet got up.

"I GOT AN IDEA! I WAS WAITING FOR A WAY TO COMMUNICATE WITH OTHERS AND YOU CAME AT THE RIGHT TIME!" Siren thanked them.

"You got a plan?" Ratchet asked.

"YES AND ITS SIMPLE!" he told them as he got behind the desk and pulled the computer up and clicked some things in it. "HERE WE GO!" he said and suddenly the desk spilt open and part of the floor receded to show a staircase.

"A secret passage. I should've guessed. Where does it lead?" Swindle asked.

"THE ENTRANCE!" he answered.

"Wait, seriously?" Swindle asked him.

"YES! IT'S A STANDARD IN ALL VAULTS! NONE OF THE OTHERS HAVE THE OTHER HIDDEN PASSAGES!" he informed them.

"Cool," he smiled.

"Wait, where are we going to go?" Ratchet asked.

"ISN'T IT OBVIOUS? OUTSIDE!" Siren explained to him.

"Are you kidding me? We're leaving everyone behind?!" Ratchet yelled at Siren in disbelief, getting in his face.

"NO! TO GET HELP!" he told him.

"Wait, help?" Swindle asked, getting in-between them. "You believe we can find help out there?"

"MAYBE! I'VE HEARD CONVERSATIONS FROM THEM ABOUT ANOTHER GROUP THROUGH THE CAMERAS WHEN I'VE HAD THE CHANCE! IF WE COULD FIND THEM, WE MIGHT FIND SOME ALLIES!" Siren told him.

"Ha! Knew it!" Swindle bragged as Siren glared at him.

"I FIND SEVERAL THINGS THAT THEY'RE DOING QUESTIONABLE, INCLUDING LETTING YOU HAVE ANY FREEDOM TO DO ANYTHING! THEY SHOULD'VE LOCKED YOU BACK UP AFTER SETTING YOU FREE!" he chastised, making Swindle nervously scratch the back of his neck.

"Yeah, um, about that-"

"It doesn't matter," Ratchet interrupted. "We've got enough problems with these raiders as it is, we don't need to turn against each other, even if Swindle kind of deserves it." Swindle glance at him for that last part, but was happy that he was standing up for him.

"TRUE," Siren acknowledged, "HOWEVER, HE'S STILL A VERY DANGEROUS INDIVIDUAL."

"Yes, which is why it's a good reason to keep him around on our side. No need to keep him stuff in a cell, especially since he's trying to make up for that colossal screw-up in giving Pyrobyte the weapon," Ratchet continued to defend Swindle. Siren glared at them, shifting his gaze between the two before relaxing.

"FINE! HE'LL COME ALONG, AS LONG AS HE'S WORKING FOR US, NOT AGAINST US!" he assented.

"You got it," Swindle nodded. "If I'm going to be a lying backstabber, it's to help us, not for myself."

"NOT THE RESPONSE I WAS LOOKING FOR, BUT I'LL TAKE IT!" Siren agreed as he turned back to the stairs. "LET'S GET GOING! LAST ONE DOWN, CLOSE IT BEHIND YOU!" he said, heading down the stairs. Ratchet glanced at Swindle, who gave him a snide smile in return.

"Come on. Let's see what the wasteland is like," Swindle told him, heading down the stairs behind Ratchet, who gave a sigh of annoyance before looking around to notice a datapad at his feet. He grabbed it and quickly looked at it.

' _I'm noticing signals that might be used to our advantage. I figured out which one these people attacking us are using and found out these don't match them. Pushing them back is suicidal as they have far more people to throw at us. It will be even worse if they find the secret passages and flank us through them. I need to head out as soon as I can as soon as I establish communications with the other people. I just hope I don't get overwhelm early and have to leave without informing them about what I'm doing. It'll be even worse if they crack the ternary code. That's where we-'_

It cut off their. That must've been when he entered the room. With that added to his Pipbot, Ratchet hurried after the others, thoughts of what was the ternary code for kept swirling inside his mind as he closed the secret passage. It must be something really bad if he's this worried about it. He quickly catch up to Siren and Swindle and together, they walked a series of corridors and up several staircases, with a door every now and then to the side that held side rooms that were pretty barren.

"What's the point of these rooms?" Swindle asked.

"STORAGE! PROTECTION! LIVING QUARTER! MANY OTHER THINGS!" he answered. "MOSTLY JUST EXTRA SPACE THAT WE COULD USE FOR WHATEVER!"

"Ow," Swindle muttered. "These tunnels really amplified your voice and leave a loud echo."

"SORRY!" he told them.

"Right…," Swindle muttered as they reached a dead end, "Secret door?"

"HM-MMM!" he agreed as he went to the corner, crouched down, and pushed down a part of the floor, depressing it. With that, the wall opened up, showing off metal.

"Alright, metal door. Open it," Swindle ordered.

"WHAT?! THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE!" Siren said, looking it over. He analyzed it by bending over to look at the ground. "SMALL OPENINGS. THIS MUST BE A METAL OBJECT OF SOME SORT PUT OVER THE ENTRANCE!"

"If that's true, can we just push it aside?" Ratchetasked, looking it over.

"NO! TOO HEAVY!" he replied.

"Ugh, then let's look inside these rooms for a lever of some sort to help us out with this," Swindle stated as he went over to the nearest door and open it, immediately gasping. "What the frag?"

"What is it?" Ratchet asked as he got next to Swindle to look inside the room. Inside was a barren, gray room that was lit up by a light hanging from the ceiling. Under that light was a large, familiar figure laying down, unmoving. "Hey, that's Treads!" Ratchet pointed out, running over to him and looking him over. He appeared to have taken a beating of some sort, with all the various dings, scratches, and cuts on him, a small amount of energon pooling around him. He hasn't bleed enough to die, but it was rather severe. One thing that really interested Ratchet was the large indent on the right side of his head. Looked like he took a hard punch to the head.

"IS HE OKAY?!" Siren asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Ratchet said, checking him over for anything else before he attempted to wake him up by shaking him lightly. "Hey, Treads, can you wake up?" Almost immediately, Ratchet heard him groaned as his yellow optics came online to look at him.

"Ratchet…," he moaned as he sat up and hold his head in his hands. "Ugh, what happen?" he asked. Ratchet looked over to the other two, wanting to know if he should tell him, and the two nodded.

"We've… been attacked."

"Attacked… yeah, yeah. Me and Tidalshock were at the entrance when the door fell open somehow. I tried holding them off, but something happened. It all went black," he said, looking up at them and looking around. "Wait… where's Tidalshock?" he asked.

"We… don't know," Swindle told him.

"Then where are we? I don't recognize this place," he said, looking around.

"It's a secret passage leading from the Overseer's office to the entrance," Ratchet told him.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

"I don't know… maybe Tidalshock brought you in and then headed on out for something," Ratchet guessed.

"That metal object over the door. What if that's the vault door?" Swindle asked. "If they blew that open, they probably found a way to go for the joints somehow and knocked it over. He could've grabbed it and placed it over it."

"That's a large object for just one bot, even for one like him." Ratchet muttered, "but it might not be impossible."

"The way out is blocked?" Treads asked, trying to stand up as Ratchet looked over him to make sure he wasn't stressing himself out.

"Yeah. A large metal object. Looks really heavy," Swindle told him.

"Then Tidalshock must've closed it. Let me get it open," he told them, rushing to the way out.

"Hey, wait!" Ratchet yelled as he and the other two followed them out of the room and Treads took a running start and impacted the object, causing it to be pushed back to the right hard, making a way out just big enough for everyone to slip through. "I got it," he said, heading on out to the stunned look on everyone.

"Damn… that guy is really strong," Swindle said as he moved forward and slipped through the crack as well. Ratchet and Siren shook out of their daze and moved on ahead, Siren going first followed by Ratchet, slipping through quickly and walking out of the entrance booth to the ruined entrance, which had blast marks everywhere and quite a few bullet casing and what looked like energy boxes. The four looked around, seeing no one around. "Where are the rest of them?" Swindle asked everybody.

"I SAW THEM WORKING ON SOMETHING IN THE ATRUIM FROM MY OCULUS! MIGHT BE RELATED!" Siren told him.

"Did you see Tidalshock from there?" Treads ask, turning to him.

"I COULDN'T SEE HIM!" Siren answered.

"Right… you three wait here. Maybe check out the atrium and see what's going on there. I'll go outside and clear it of any enemies and be on my way. If Tidalshock isn't here, he has to be somewhere else and I have to find him. Sorry that I can't help you," he told them.

"No, we understand. Your conjunx endura is missing and you have to look for him. Doing better than some others," Ratchet agreed.

"Some others? Did someone lose there… no, don't tell me. I don't need to know what could happen to me," he said, turning around and running for the way out. "Give me a five minutes then come on out!" he told them as he disappeared from view.

"Well, at least he's alive," Swindle muttered, crossing his arms. "That's one less person to worry about."

"YES. VERY MUCH!" he said, bringing a communications device out. "WOULD YOU TWO MIND CHECKING OUT THE ATRUIM WHILE I TALK TO SRIG ABOUT WHAT WE'RE GOING TO DO!"

"Feel like some recon, Swindle?" Ratchet asked him.

"I guess taking a look won't hurt, if it gets me off everyone's blacklist faster," Swindle agreed, heading to the door. "Just got to be quiet, which should be easy if Siren's not with us," Swindle reminded him, as Ratchet followed along to the stairs. The two of them traversed down the stairs quickly, making sure that there were no enemies coming their way as they went. Before long, they reached the end of the stairs to the door that was kicked out of its hinges, laying on the floor in front of them. The two of them peeked carefully into the room to see no one on the balconies, so they carefully walked across the balcony and looked over the railing down below. There, they could see many of the raiders around with weapons, sitting around, checking weapons, and drinking energon.

The thing that drawn Ratchet's optics the most was a gate of some sort, made of rusted metal. The two of them wonder what it was for when someone went over to the console and activated the switch. When that happened, a green energon went around the gate before a green portal appeared. The two of them gaped at it as they saw people emerged from the portal and to the atrium. The one leading them was a large figure walking in a dusty grey color and a patchwork of scars all over him. He was outfitted with a large cannon on his back and red optics that glared at everyone with a dangerous look. They saw a symbol that was very prominently shown on his chest and looking around, they could see The same symbol on the other raiders partly hidden behind the grime and the rust covering their plating. When his group had left the portal, the grey mech addressed them. "Where is Turmoil?" he asked them calmly in a guttural voice, his mouth showing off his incredibly sharp teeth.

"He's busy attacking the Overseer's office and defending it from the inhabitants," the gruff voice from earlier when they were in the dorms spoke.

"Hmph, fine," he muttered. "Tell him he will now serve as Co-leader of the attack with Lugnut here," he told them, laying a hand on the figure next to him. He was even larger than him with a purple-and-gray color scheme, his head jutting forward severely, and five optics. One on his forehead and two next to it. "I trust, Lugnut, that you will ensure the capture of the area."

"I will, Lord Megatron. I always do whatever you want," Lugnut agreed in a boisterous voice, bowing lightly.

"Good," Megatron coolly replied, turning his attention back to everyone. "Remember, this place is critical in our endeavors. Wipe the people out and then control it."

"Understood, sir," the gruff voice said, nodding slightly.

"Very well. Carry on in the name of the Decepticons," Megatron said as he headed back out the gateway.

"For the Decepticons!" Lugnut shouted as the other in the rooms repeated it as well as Megatron disappeared. When he left, Ratchet and Swindle looked at each other before making their way back out of the room, heading up quickly. Before long, they were back up at the entrance where Siren was waiting for them with crossed arms.

"YOU'RE LATE! WHAT TOOK SO LONG?!" he questioned them. With that, Swindle quickly told him.

"They have a groundbridge and their using it to transport troops here!" he answered.

"A GROUNDBRIDGE! THAT'S HIGHLY DANGEROUS!" Siren said.

"Yeah, and we got the name and leader of the group. A person name Megatron is their leader and the group is called the Decepticons," Ratchet told him.

"That Megatron guy is really scary-looking," Swindle told him. "Sharp teeth. Bunch of scars. Looked like a gladiator."

"THAT'S TROUBLESOME!" he said, thinking this through. "WE'LL HAVE TO BE CAREFUL! JUST THE GROUNDBRIDGE IS WORRISOME, SHOWING THEY HAVE ADVANCED TECHNOLOGICAL KNOWLEDGE TO BUILD ONE!

"No kidding. Until that's gone, they'll send as many as they want to attack them," Swindle pointed out.

"We have to find out who the people the Decepticons are warring with and hope they can help us," Ratchet said.

"YES! WE MUST! AND THE FIRST STEP IS GETTING OUT!" Siren said, turning to the way out and walking towards it. "COME ON! THE OUSIDE IS WAITING FOR US!" he told them. The two of them followed along, walking through the winding caves, Siren leading with his Pipbot's light, followed by Swindle, and Ratchet tailing it off. The three moved along carefully, pieces of the cave jutting out, scraping them slightly as they walked around the caves, moving up through it. Ratchet couldn't help but feel tense as he moved up. It had been over 300 years since he's been outside. He was in what was basically an underground hermit town, isolating themselves from society as it was destroyed. Now, he was heading out to the ruins of it. It left a weird feeling in him.

"Please tell me that's light from outside!" Swindle shouted in joy and Ratchet tried his hardest to look above them and he could see a blinding light in front of him.

"IT IS!" Siren shouted as he turned his Pipbot light off and started sprinting for the cave entrance. Swindle and Ratchet both picked up the pace as well as they continued heading for the blinding light. They ran quickly, their HUD not adjusting fast enough as they reached the entrance and outside.

Into the wasteland.


	8. Two Sides, Neither Good

Ratchet placed a hand in front of his optics as his HUD adjusted to the bright sun. Rushing right into the light was probably not the best idea. He waited for it to recalibrate and the bright lights to fade into a much more tolerable sunlight, allowing him to view the wasteland. The first thing he noticed was how brown the whole place was. The landscape was in this dusty brown color, a far cry from the luminous silver it once was. Even the sky appeared browner, like dust was stuck in the air. Even though the sun was in the middle of the sky indicating about noon, it was slightly darker than usual, probably having to do with all the dust in the sky. The ground Ratchet was on appear to be so dirty and ugly, he would probably need disinfectant shots when he was done up here. The whole area looked dead and absolutely barren, which was a very accurate idea of what he expected.

Of course, it wasn't exactly completely barren. There were recently killed corpses in the area, more than likely caused by Treads as he made his way out. Looking at them, Ratchet felt some sympathy. Treads wasn't easy on them, the quickest death probably being one who appeared to be a top-half of a corpse, covered in scorch marks. He must've been blown up by a tank shell upon his entrance. The two bodies closest to them were killed In hand-to-hand, one having his entire head crush and the other having a large hole in his chest and what appeared to be his spinal strut next to him. The last body appeared to be riddled with bullets, which Treads must've done by stealing a gun from a corpse. Good for him.

"Wow… I envision it looking like this, but it hurts to actually see it," he heard Swindle said behind him and he silently agreed. In front of him, Siren was looking at the area with a sense of melancholy before bowing his head. Obviously, he wasn't taking it very well. Ratchet turned over to Swindle, who had his arms cross and was biting the bottom of the mouth with his denta. Unlike Siren, he was more nervous than sorrowful about their current situation. Ratchet himself was unnerved and he felt this strange thing creeping up his spinal strut. He really wish that he wasn't forced to go out here now. He might take the soldiers with guns rather than the emptiness.

"So… what should we do?" Ratchet asked the two. Siren snapped out of his melancholy and looked back at Ratchet and Swindle. He gazed at them before looking up. Ratchet raised an eyebrow before turning around and looking up to the top of the hill. On the hill, a vehicles was up there, ready to fall down, but haven't quite just yet. It was very rusted and parts of it had already fallen off to the entrance.

"Huh, wonder why that's up there," Swindle said. "Let's take a look up there and we can get a good look around the area." Ratchet thought it was a good idea and turned around to Siren for his response. He kept staring up at it before looking back at them and nodded his head. That worried Ratchet. Siren was never this reserved.

"Right… I'll lead the way. On me," he told them, moving ahead of the two to make it around the hill. Ratchet stared at Siren, who gave a glance at him, before following behind Swindle. Ratchet quickly got behind him and followed them around the mountain to where Siren was giving his loud spiel before entering the vault. Around them, they could see a trail heading up the hill just big enough to let vehicles up it. "You guys want to see if our T-cogs are still working?" Swindle asked them.

"Worth a try, although it's been so long," Ratchet muttered before giving a try. To his disappointment, he didn't feel anything shift, so his T-cog wasn't working. If he was correct, he was suffering from inert organ rejection. "Not working," Ratchet muttered.

"You not the only one," Swindle said as Siren nodded along. "Wonder why is that?"

"It's inert organ rejection. Basically, when you haven't used any of your organs in a long time, the CPU considers it vestigial and cut off all ties with it, leaving it to rust. It's generally only a problem for coma patients who don't use their organs for a long time while recovering. However, sense we've haven't had a reason to use our T-cogs for over 300 years, the CPU consider it wasteful and sever all connections to it. If we're going to be able to switch forms, we're going to have to replace them," Ratchet told them.

"Well, that's certainly a pain in the aft," Swindle muttered, rubbing his chin in thought before turning has attention back to the trail. "So, I guess we should start climbing this thing," he said as he started walking up the trail with Ratchet and Siren following him up. The ground was an uneven mess, leaving many opportunities to trip to the unaware, meaning that they had to keep aware on the trip up. About halfway up, Swindle spoke again. "I was not expecting the ground to be this hard to walk on."

"I admit, when it comes to problems in a post-nuclear annihilation world, the quality of the ground was the not the first thing I thought of," Ratchet muttered in assent.

"Gah!" Swindle yelled in frustration as they continued up. They kept going up in frustration of the bad ground. "Hey, Ratch, got some personal questions."

"Alright, but nothing too personal," he told him.

"Nothing of the sort, just questions about that clinic of yours. Did you own it?" he questioned.

"I did. Saved up enough money to buy one. It's a small one, but that didn't matter much to me. I had enough money to bleed through. I was just there to bring my many years of experience to help the people of Eastside. Lot of good that is now," he muttered.

"Hey, good to see a fellow owner of a business, even if yours was a lot less successful," Swindle cheered. "I'm a lot like you. I had a lot of money to burn through, so I decided to live the dream. Opened up a store in Eastside and sold a nice variety of products to customers. Called it Myriad and soon enough made enough money to open up more stores around Cybertron such as Ibex, Telos, and Helex. Not very good now that they're destroyed, but it was a good business."

"Myriad… I know that. I go there for some of the medical supplies that I couldn't get. It had surprisingly high-quality items for use," Ratchet muttered.

"Yeah, I had contacts in the military deliver things like those medical supplies to me. Eastside had the highest quality items for offer to any customers," he told him.

"I wonder how you got those connections," Ratchet muttered.

"Does it matter? World's gone to scrap anyway."

"Point taken." They continued climbing the trail until they reached the top of the trail. Up there was what appeared to be a small park. Picnic tables were in the center with two corpses clutching each other on the center bleachers. On the edges of the hill were telescopes for people to examine the landscape and the sky. Clearly a product of their time. On the other side was the van, ready to tip over of the mountain to crash to the ground. "Alright, we're finally- what the?" he muttered as he felt his Pipbot vibrate. He looked at it to see it say 'World Map' activated. Intrigued, he checked that out to see a square view of the topography of Iacon and its outskirts. On the right side of it, a bit away from the border, were two squares, one labeled 'Vault 17' and the other labeled 'Atacoma Hill.' "It's a map of Iacon," Ratchet muttered.

"Not just a map. It shows what the landscape is like, whether it's mountains, flatlands, or cities. That's really cool," Swindle said excitedly before turning to Siren. "Did you know about it?" A shake of the head no. "Interesting. Now why didn't they mention that?" Siren gave a shrug of his shoulder. "Come on, you're the overseer. You should know." Siren flared at him.

"Why would he? He told us numerous times before that they always kept secrets from him. Why isn't this so unbelievable?" Ratchet asked and Siren nodded his head in agreement.

"Hmph, right," Swindle said as he looked towards Iacon. "Well, at least Iacon looks okay, more or less." Ratchet turned over to see that indeed it was okay, for the most part. Yeah, most of the buildings looked damaged in some way, lots of large holes in them and probably close to destroying the foundation. Some of them were even had their top half destroyed.

"It does look alright, considering nuclear annihilation happened," Ratchet agreed. "Still wouldn't enter any of those."

"Agreed, now-" he turned back to the park, "-shall we take a look around the place before we hit the van?"

"That's fine. I'll take the long deceased couple," Ratchet said as he walked on over to the picnic bench while Siren and Swindle took the telescopes and trash cans. He arrived at the body and looked at them. They were heavily rusted, exposing much of their skeletal frame. Judging by their frame, they were both probably femmes. The two were clutching each other, probably knowing that their death was coming. Kind of romantic, in a disturbing way. He took a look around and found datapad on the ground next to them, heavily rusted and cracked, but still working. He took a hold of it and took a gander at it, focuses his optics to understand the words through the cracks.

_Well, this kind of sucks. We just wanted a nighttime picnic and look up at the star. There's even an astronomer here with his van to make it more fun. Perfect timing. Then when we heard on the radio that nukes were being launched. Pretty sure it's going to land soon enough. Just great. Violet switching the channels to find them all saying the same thing. We both know it isn't a joke, but she certainly wants it to be. Listen, probable mutant that's going to find our corpses, want to make use of out supplies we won't use anymore? Violet owns a shack not far from here up north. Feel free to make use of it. Coordinates at the bottom and the key should be on her corpse. Hopes it isn't too damage. Well, going to die soon. Might as well make sure it's in each other's arms._

Ratchet felt a bit weirded out by the blasé tone of the final will of the dead femme. Someone accepting death that willingly was highly disturbing. Still, at least she gave him something with the shack, wherever it was. It wasn't like he could understand these coordinates.

Bzzt!

He felt his Pipbot vibrate and looked at it to see the map updated with another square due slightly north and slightly east with 'Violet's Shack' used to describe it. This raised an eyebrow from him, but he liked the Pipbot abilities and he wasn't going to question it as long as it advantaged him. He searched the body and found a rusted iron key on them. The shack must use old-school locks. Not entirely strange, even in the city. Scanners for keycards or cyber-biometrics were expensive to make. He looked around to see that Swindle was picking up change from the telescopes. Makes sense. He was always the one who wanted money.

"JAAM!" Siren yelled, making Ratchet flinched at that. He has a tendency to surprise him. He turned to see him holding a green bottle over the trash can with JaAm on it written on bold, red letters with a white outline.

"What the frag did you say? It was so sudden and unexpected, my CPU momentarily stalled out," Ratchet asked.

"He said JaAm," Swindle specified from behind him as he was almost finished with the telescope. "It's an anagram for Jamtacular Ambrosia, a popular soda."

"Oh, I know what it. I remember complaining to every person with bad denta that it's bad for them, but they never listen. Idiots," Ratchet complained.

"Well, at least it gives us something to drink. It may not be healthy for our denta, but we can't exactly be picky about it," he pointed out.

"True. If it is as popular as you say it is, then it'll probably be out lifeblood out here," Ratchet agreed.

"SO, WE'LL SURVIVE BY DRINKING THE ENTIRELY BAD FOR YOU, BUT COMPLETELY TASTY JAAM!" Siren specified.

"Yes, now quit talking and breaking our audials!" Ratchet yelled at him, which caused him to jump back and nod his head. "Great, so, shall we hit the van?" he asked.

"Sure thing. Let's look inside," Swindle agreed as he walked on over to it. Siren and Ratchet followed him over their as he opened up the rusty doors on the back. Inside, they could see various consoles on the left side and cabinets on the front left, with a table on the back left. "Wow, nice stuff. Must be for some kind of occupation involving traveling."

"According to a note I found, an astrologist was here. Maybe this is his van," he told him.

"Makes sense. Sometimes, freelance astrologist travel around for the best locations," Swindle commented as he took a seat inside the van. "Hey, Ratchet, wanna take a look while me and Siren keep this can from tipping over?"

"I guess I can, just make sure you keep it still," Ratchet ordered them as he got up on it. Siren did his part and lean against the van. Ratchet looked at the computers first, but that was pointless. All except one of the computer screens were broken and the one that wasn't had its battery die out a long time ago. Frustrated, he went to the cabinets and looked inside. All he found in it were telescope equipment and it looked pretty good too, something called the Teleview 1060X. Might've useful a long time ago, but now it was pointless. Even more annoyed, he went over to the table to look at mostly star charts. This was cool, but once again, completely useless right now as he had no idea how to read them. The only thing worth looking at was a map a lot like what his Pipbot was, but without any physical marks for it. It was probably made to overlap the star charts over it. However, there was a mark on it at the bottom left corner with Verole Observatory written for it. He felt his Pipbot shake and knew that it added it to the map. Well, at least he got a location to check out.

With that done, he started walking carefully to the front of the van, feeling it slightly creak as he walked. "Scrap," Ratchet quietly muttered. He kept going, moving very slowly to the front with Siren and Swindle did their best to keep the van from tipping over. He reached the front to see a corpse in the driver's seat, a rusting mech leaning forward against the wheel. He searched the corpse and found a keycard on his corpse. He looked at it, being an orange one with Verole Observatory on it. After that, he searched the dashboard and found a bottle of JaAm and a datapad amongst miscellaneous objects. He took a quick look at it.

_I swear, I'm through looking for Sunspot. That neurotic, pain-in-the-aft can go screw off in whatever safe spot he's in. I'm going to rebuild the relevant information that he stole and head to Atacoma Hill to get started. I wonder what he saw there a month ago and I'm going to see if I can make something of it. He looked pretty startled. Frankly, his disappearance was for the best. When he left, he took those gangbangers with him. I had no idea why they were attacking us, but it obviously has something to do with Sunspot. Shifty slagger. Knew we couldn't trust him, especially sense he caused Talover and Brahmin's death by attacking those gangbangers. At least we finally have peace and I hope those gangbangers put a bullet through Sunspot's head._

The note was surprising to Ratchet. Apparently, Sunspot was leaving some details about his story. They were after him, not the observatory itself. Which was very odd. Sunspot was an overly-paranoiac individual, but he was on the up-and-up. Maybe there were some things about Sunspot he didn't quite know, but that would had to wait. He had to find reinforcement first so he took the JaAm as his Pipbot buzz from the note. He quickly walked back out of the van and jumped out, with the other two letting, leaving it to tee-tooter for a little bit before going back to balancing perfectly on the edge.

"Alright, so what did you find?" Swindle asked.

"Nothing much. Just the location of the observatory Sunspot headed too when he left and a note about him from the driver," Ratchet told him.

"Well, it's better than nothing," Swindle muttered. "Can you show us this information? Like, can we synch out Pipbot's to each other to share information?" he turned to Siren for any possible answers. He gave an apathetic shrug. "Of course you wouldn't know. Let me see if I can find something," he grumbled as he looked at his Pipbot and began surfing around. Ratchet and Siren shared an odd look with each other as Swindle looked around. "Okay, I may found something on the side of the damn thing. There's a button labeled sync. Let me see if that does anything," he said as he pressed it. Ratchet looked for it before pressing it. Before long, Swindle's Pipbot buzzed and he looked at it. "Alright, it says sharing complete. I got all your notes and locations," he told him.

"Alright, Siren, press yours," Ratchet told him as he pressed his button. Siren pressed his button as well and it buzzed with him nodding his head from collecting the information. "Right, so we go."

"Yeah… what the frag is this information about Sunspot being chased by gangster?" Swindle asked Ratchet. "This is prime blackmail material here and I never heard of it."

"He said he was chased by gangsters over the data he had, but the notes paint a different tale. Frankly, both could be true or false," he muttered. "Don't really have enough info for that."

"Understandable, considering what you said and the guy in this note says is pretty ambiguous. Perhaps if we want to settle this, we can head on over to Verole Observatory and settle this after we help out the vault," the merchant recommended and Siren nodded his head to that before speaking.

"WE SENT PEOPLE OUT WITH HIM! IT WOULD BE GOOD TO MAKE SURE THEY ARE ALRIGHT!" he said.

"Yeah, that's true too. Can't exactly just forget about them. If we can establish a foothold there, that's good news," Swindle agreed.

"Right, I guess that's something, and if we can't find reinforcement, we could hold up there. That might be the residents of Vault 17's new home," Ratchet added.

"Let's us hope not. I rather not deal with anymore complications," Swindle muttered. "That and I know how to blackmail them."

"Right, let's head on down and make our way to a shack that this note mentioned. It's better than walking aimlessly across the wasteland for something that we have no idea where to search for," Ratchet recommended.

"Yeah, sure thing, Ratch. It isn't too far. Siren, would that be alright?" Swindle asked the overseer who gave a nod of the head. "Great. Since you're the overseer, lead the way. Just follow the Pipbot on over and we'll follow." Siren nodded and started walking to the exit down the trail with Ratchet and Swindle following him. The trio carefully watched their step as they made their way down the mountain. It was a bit quicker than when they ascended up and before long, they reached the bottom and turned right towards the northeast. The trio began their trek across the wasteland.

* * *

After many minutes, the trio saw a shack in the distance. "Oh, finally," Swindle muttered as he saw the shack. "I hope we find something in there."

"Well, I see people," Ratchet muttered as he gazed at it. It was a simple shack made out of unmatched pieces of metal. Around it was a small fence that had a small gate and a few open spots that fallen apart. Resting on it with their back to them was someone of a brown color, with their arms resting on it. To their right was a slight incline with rocks on it.

"Right, maybe he can help us," Swindle said hopefully.

"HEY! WE NEED YOUR HELP!" Siren yelled at the person, making the person jump and look at them.

"I wanted to wait until we get closer," Swindle barked at him.

"SORRY!" he apologized as the person ran into the shack.

"Oh, look at that, he ran away. Good one!" Swindle sarcastically thanked him.

"SORRY AGAIN!" he repeated as they saw the person come back out with someone next to him. "LOOK, THEIR BACK AND… OH FRAG! COVER!" He shouted as he took cover at a nearby rock. Ratchet and Swindle were momentarily confused when they heard gunfire and took cover behind a rock with Siren.

"Okay, not friendly," Swindle growled.

"What do we do?" Ratchet asked.

"'What do we do?' We shoot to kill, of course!" he replied.

"HE'S RIGHT! AS THE ONLY ONE WITH A RIFLE, I NEED YOU TWO TO PROVIDE COVER FIRE FOR ME!" Siren told the two of them, referencing his laser rifle.

"I think we can arrange that," Swindle muttered as he readied his pistol and Ratchet followed along.

"Guess if they're shooting at us, talking is no longer an option," Ratchet muttered as he did the same. "Alright, on your go."

"Right, 3, 2, 1, cover fire!" he ordered and the two of them got up to fire at what appeared to be two gunmen the previous one and a grayish one, who both took partial cover behind the fence and were firing with pistols. Due to the limitations of their pistols, they weren't exactly the best shot at range and would go wide. Siren's rifle, on the other hand, didn't have that weakness and was more accurate. The first two shots would've hit, but the fence was in the way, so Siren took a more careful shot and fire again, hitting the brown one in the leg, making him give a slight yell and immediately retreat back to the house. The three of them took more shots at him and he flinched a few times before retreating in the house. The grey one glared at his retreating comrade before taking aim with his assault rifle and shot at them while retreating backward. Siren took careful aim and fired thrice, sending all three into his body and collapse backward. With him down, the area appeared to be cleared and the three of them looked around before they moved towards the cabin.

"It looks clear. The only person we should have to worry about now is the one inside," Ratchet told them.

"Yeah… still got the moron in the shack we got to take care of. Hopefully, he'll be too damaged to actually give a fight and we can take him without a struggle. Maybe get some info off him," Swindle said.

"Right, let's go talk to-"

*Crack*

"Gah!" Ratchet yelled as he took a bullet to the left shoulder and hid behind cover, using a smaller rock that could only fit him, leaving Swindle and Siren to go prone as they noticed another femme behind the rock on the incline to the right as she took more shots with her pistol as well. Swindle shot back, trying to keep her at bay, and she hid back behind the boulder. Swindle took more shots as Siren took careful aim at where he expected her to be once Swindle had to reload. Before long, he heard the click of Swindle going through the remaining bullets from his first firefight. Immediately, the raider reappear to take more shots and was greeted by a shot to the head from Siren, making her fall out of cover, unmoving.

"GOT HER!" Siren yelled as he and Swindle got back up and look around for any more enemies. "ALL CLEAR!"

"Great, I'll go check on Ratchet," Swindle said as he head on over to him. He was grasping his shoulders, preventing any more energon lost. "Ratchet, you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I injected it with a direct dose of stimpaks and it should stop bleeding and return to normal working capacity. It takes a few minutes to finish its job," he said as he got up. "I should be fine as long as we don't have any other surprises in store."

"Right, let's head on to the shack and take care of that last guy," Swindle said as he helped him along to the shack where Siren was walking past the fence's gate entrance to the door, standing in front of it. "Hey, Siren! Ratchet's fine!" Swindle yelled. Siren turned over to them to see the two of them fine and gave a smile at them. Swindle gave a smile as well for the two of them before he suddenly looked frighten. "Behind you!" Siren frown and looked back to the entrance to see a large, black figure with orange optics glowering at him and a rusted machete in his hand. Before he could act, he brought his machete up and swiped it at him, causing him to block it with his rifle, causing it to get stuck in it, breaking it.

"FRAG!" Siren yelled as he pulled the machete out and swiped again. This time, Siren actually managed to duck under as he brought it down as he brought the sword down for him, which he rolled out of the way of. The large raider was frustrated as he turned to Siren, who had got out of his roll to glare at him. The raider didn't hesitate and rushed at the overseer and swiping at him, causing him to lunge back with each strike. On the fourth strike, he over swung and got it stuck in the fence. Siren immediately took advantage of this and jumped on him, separating him from the machete and bring both of them to the floor. He quickly brought two punches down on his face quickly, startling him before he realized what was going on before he used his superior size to throw him off into the wall of the shack and he got back up and shoulder rush him, crushing him against the wall. Siren gasped, but quickly recover by wrapping his arms around the raider's chest and kneeing him in the sides, causing him to give grunts in pain. He responding by grabbing a hold of his legs and flipping him over, causing Siren to land painfully on his back and making him groan in pain. The raider got his hands together and brought it down on Siren, who was unable to dodge it and it slammed into his chest, making him yell in pain as he got ready to do it again to his face.

*Crack*

A shot rung out and a bullet hit him in his side, making him recoil and duck, dodging another bullet that hit the wall harmlessly. Siren took advantage of this and grabbed his head before slamming it down on the ground, surprising the raider as he stumbled to the wall before collapsing to the side. With a solid opening, Siren got up and ran to the machete stuck in the fence and pulled to find it stuck real well. Siren let out a growl before pulling it even harder to dislodge it. He turned back to see the raider was up again and glaring at him. Rather than back away from someone with a blade, he rushed on over to get another hit in. Siren was prepare and effortlessly dodge his overhead strike. The raider turn back to strike again only to be met with his own machete lodging itself in his head from Siren's own overhead strike. Siren pulled back, the handle breaking off from the blade, leaving it stuck in the raider's head, who was left stumbling about with it cutting into one of his optics and his mouth making this odd gurgling sound that was like he was trying to scream. Siren looked at the raider in mild confusion before throwing the handle away and moving in to finish his suffering. He gave a kick to his thigh, sending him on his knees before he grabbed a hold of his head and drove him to the ground, sending the blade deeper into his head as well as sending the rest of the blade into his neck and chest, silencing the raider for good.

Siren exhale in relief at having finally finished him off and turned to Swindle aiming his gun at his general direction and Ratchet crouched down, still holding his shoulder. "I'M FINE! HE'S DEAD!"

"Yeah, but there's still the last guy in the shack," Swindle reminded him.

"OH!" Siren said as he looked back at the entrance. "RIGHT! YOU TAKE CARE OF THAT AND I'LL WATCH RATCHET! YOU CAN DO THAT RIGHT!?"

"Yeah, sure," he agreed and he went over to the door and took cover by the doorframe as Siren went on over to Ratchet. Swindle exhale to calm down before entering the room with his gun. In it was a small hallway with dried energon all over the hallway as well as a small trail of fresh energon leading to a door at the end of the hallway on the right side. There was a shelf on the left that held an odd assortment of items. Swindle felt unnerved at seeing all the dried energon in the room as he continued down the hall to the door, wondering why all of this was here. He reached the door and carefully cracked the door open. When nothing happened, he slowly looked inside and brought the door open all the way and almost immediately, he felt sick to his system. Around the room was dismembered bodies. Two were hung from the ceiling with hooks in various states of dismemberment, a few were pinned to the walls with nails, the most gruesome being one that was split open from the head down to the pelvic plate, showing his empty inside, a few were on the floor, dismembered except for one, and the last one was face down on a table with their back opened up and his spinal column pierced through the back of his head and slanted forward.

"Frag…," Swindle muttered as he walked around the room observing the bodies. He admits that he's some disgusting things in life, but nothing quite this. Evan watching gladiator matches to the death was far more humane than this. This was the work of some deranged serial killer. If this was the norm in what was left of society, he would gladly closed the vault door behind him. First the invaders of his vault and now this. The only hope he had for a sane society is with the people opposing the invaders in vault. So it was pretty slim chance of actually finding sane people. He walked around the room, taking note of the stench of death in the room, bodily energon mixing in with all the rust and grime. He walked past the blue-and-orange non-dismembered femme corpse and to a door at the back where the fresh energon trailed led under. The only place the last enemy could be on was here so he got a deep breath before he entered the room.

*Schtck*

"AH!" Swindle yelled as he felt a blade enter his right arm, making him drop his gun, right before entering the room. He instinctively jumped and turned around with a outstretch fist to the face of the raider and startled her, sending her stumbling back to the table and accidently causing him to kick the gun to the wall. Swindle acted quickly, rushing over to the person and delivering two swift punches to her face followed by one to her side, making the femme spit energon out of her mouth she duck the next one and quickly moved behind him and jumped on his back, shocking him. Pretty soon, she grabbed the knife in his arm and removed it before jamming it in his right shoulder, eliciting a harsh yell. Swindle was moving around as she pulled it back out and ready to stab him in the head when Swindle jumped and feel on his back, using it to crush her. She gasped as Swindle rolled off and made a grab for the knife, taking hold of it and not letting go. She responded by wrapping her legs around him and pulling herself behind him as she brought the knife close to his neck. Swindle gasped as he saw the knife extremely close to his neck and he heard the femme chuckled maniacally as she was bringing it closer. Swindle freed one of his hands and pushed against the femme's head, trying to find a way to get her off. Swindle looked around for anything that could help him and he noticed his gun by the wall. With his idea in mind, he did a head-butt to her chin using the top of his head, surprising her as he moved her arm away and rolled her off. As she got back up, Swindle lunged for the gun, grabbed it with his left hand, and pointed it at her to fire.

*Crack* *Crack*

Two shots came out and struck her in the chest, both near the spark, and stumble back, shocked at what happened before falling back to the table.

*Schtck*

She landed on the spinal column, piercing the back of her head and exiting through her mouth. She writhed around, gurgling, energon flowing out of her mouth and down her body, for a full minute before it waned and stopped after another minute, the light from her optics gone. Swindle gazed at her corpse in shock, the adrenaline rush going away. He had never been involve in fighting that brutal before and he never had to see the final results up close. He always watched them from the safety of the spectator's stand, never in person. He never quite imagine it being quite brutal.

Having partially process it, the pain in the left side of his bodies was coming out he started screaming in pain at it. He had already experienced a lot of abuse from the raider leader at the jail, but they never stab or shot him. He held a hand on the top of the shoulders to try and stop anymore bleeding as he got up. He still had to worry about the last guy in the last room. He may be injured, but the other guy was worst off. He hurried to the room and took cover by the doorframe. He took hold of the handle and opened the door before letting go, seeing if he was going to fire his gun at him. When nothing happened, he pushed door completely and nothing still happen. Confused, Swindle stuck his head inside to look around. Inside, he could see it was a bathroom with the sink and mirror cabinet in front of him and a bathtub to the left. To the left, he could see the person he was looking for laying in the rub, looking at him with dim green optics, and his arm hanging beside the tub with his gun in hand. Swindle stepped inside and kept the gun pointed at him as he got closer to examine him. The raider merely kept his optics on him and didn't bother to move his optics. When he got close enough, Swindle reached down and wrenched the gun out of his hand and threw it to the corner. With that done, the two looked at each other briefly before the raider. "So, which side?" he asked.

"Side?" Swindle asked, confused.

"Yes, your side, or are you *cough* freelance?" he asked him.

"I… don't quite get it. I'd just got out of the vault," he told him and at that, the raider stared at him with his mouth open before he started giving a hearty laugh at that and that slowly become ragged and he spit blood out of mouth. "Hey, stay with me here! What's so funny?!" Swindle badgered him. The raider slowly stopped laughing before he gazed at him again with an odd smile.

"You're a vault-dweller? A fragging vault dweller! That's *cough* *cough* hilarious! How long?" he asked him.

"At around noon. We were attacked a few days ago and we've been looking for a way out," Swindle told him.

"Wow, you are amazingly out of the loop, here. Alright, since I'm going *cough* to bleed out here, I might as well tell you about it. You see, there are two feuding groups right. You got the locals, the Autobots, trying to prevent the other group's expansion. The other group, the Decepticons, are from Kaon. They are a group that has *cough* *cough* been stretching itself thin for a while. They lost Kaon very recently and are hoping to make Iacon their new headquarter. Frankly, I hope both of them die. Makes life easier when there's no government around," he chuckled before he started coughing again.

"Yeah. No government makes it easier for you to indiscriminately kill everyone without anyone wanting to get you back for it," Swindle muttered.

"Look, frankly, I don't trust them. The Decepticons are an oppressive government led by Megatron. I wouldn't be able to *cough* get anything done with them at the helm. And the Autobots are composed of nothing but criminals at the higher ups with *cough* Optimus Prime at the lead. They were all vault-dwellers that were there because they were criminals. Murderers, thieves, and all kinds of other people. We don't take orders from vault-dwellers like you," he told him with a harsh smile.

"The person at our vault was named Megatron. They must be the Decepticons. Which means we might be able to get those Autobots to help, but they're all criminals. Way to make things complicated," Swindle muttered, looking aside, annoyed.

"Well, I gave you information. Can you go ahead and end my suffering?" he asked him. Swindle turned back to him, surprised.

"Come again?"

"You're not going to let me live. You've saw what we did. Might as well go ahead and put a bullet in me. Bullets hurt," he said, looking pain and Swindle noticed he was intaking at a faster rate. "Come on, do me a solid. The world sucks. I'm happy to just end it and I recommend you do it too. Nothing good would come from living," he told him with a sour tone. "I don't know how long it's been sense those damn bombs hit, but I'm fine with just ending it."

"If you insist," Swindle muttered as he pointed the gun at his head again. "Any last words?"

"Nah, just end it. It's time for me to go to the pits," he told him, looking away to the wall.

"Right," Swindle muttered as he pointed at his head. He took a deep intake as he prepared to shoot. Executing someone wasn't something he had done first hand and he turned away before he steadied himself, continuing to remind himself what he done in the previous room. The dismembered corpses, hung up the walls and the ceiling, the look of pain on their face as they died….

*Crack*

He fired a shot and he heard energon splattering the wall. He looked back to see the raider limped, his head on the bathtub's rim with a hole in his head and energon splattered behind him on the wall and rim, dripping down to the bottom of the tub and to the drainer. Swindle stared at it momentarily before making his way out, trying his best not to look at the corpses on his way out. He made his way out of the room, through the hallway, and out of the room. Outside, he saw Ratchet resting on the wall next to the door, looking fine, while Siren was walking over from the body at the rocks.

"YOU KILLED HIM!?" Siren asked him.

"Yeah, him and another femme who got the drop on me," he said, indicating his arms.

"RIGHT, RATCHET FOUND SOME STIMPAKS ON THE BODY FOR US TO USE! HELP SWINDLE!" he told Ratchet.

"On it. Want me to go heal you in the shack?" Ratchet asked him.

"You don't want to go in there. Trust me," Swindle told him.

"Why?"

"These guys were sadists. There's bodies nailed to the walls and hung from the ceiling. It's a fragging slaughterhouse in there," he told them.

"Frag… should we still stay the night here?" Ratchet asked Siren.

OF COURSE! JUST… IS THERE A PLACE WE CAN SLEEP WITHOUT THE BODIES?!" Siren asked Swindle.

"The entrance hallway," Swindle told him as Ratchet used a stimpak to heal swindle's wound, "if you don't mind dried energon."

"Right… do they have a storage room?" Ratchet asked.

"Not that I can see," Swindle told him.

"Right, we'll take the beds in there and placed them in the entrance hallway. It'll help if we can find some things to decontaminate them," Ratchet said.

"You won't find those in there. Trust me," he shut the idea down.

"Shame," he muttered as he got done tending to Swindle. "Okay, you should be fine in a few minutes.

"Thanks. Also, the last guy gave me some information about the two groups," Swindle told them.

"YOU DID? WHAT WAS IT!?" Siren questioned him.

"Well, the ones who attack us are Decepticons, an oppressive regime from Kaon who are looking for a new place to settle led by Megatron, who we saw back at the vault, and the others they're feuding with are called the Autobots, locals who are vault-dwellers led by Optimus Prime that were picked because they were all criminals. Seriously, the people who can help us are a society composed of _criminals_. We're screwed whoever we deal with," Swindle told him.

"DAMMIT!" Siren yelled, pacing back and forth, thinking it through.

"Guess we'll have to hope the Autobots are a bunch of sensible criminals," Ratchet muttered.

"I guess so. They're out only hope," Swindle muttered. Siren kept pacing around as he thought it through before he stopped.

"YOU'RE RIGHT! FRAG!" Siren yelled.

"Well… want to head on inside?" Swindle asked them.

"Yeah, sure. Probably be best to get out and into cover," Ratchet told them.

"I don't mind. Let's go," he said, getting up and heading inside. Ratchet looked at Siren, who was watching the afternoon sun before turning to the door and heading inside, Ratchet following along. The two of them looked at the dirty hallway with the dried energon around the room.

"Geez. I already feel like I need a tetanus shot," Ratchet muttered as they walked around.

"Yeah, the other room is worse," he told them. "Do you really want to look inside?"

"Might as well get used to it. I imagine we'll be finding many violent places in the new world," Ratchet replied.

"Right," Swindle muttered as they reached the room and opened it, letting them look inside the room. Immediately, Ratchet and Siren's face scrunched up in disgust at looking at all the corpses around the room.

"Frag! You were severely understating how bad the room looks," Ratchet said, wrapping his arm around himself. "These people were psychopaths."

"THIS IS BAD! NOT THE MOST DISGUSTING THING, BUT IT'S UP THERE!" Siren said.

"I wonder what you've seen," Swindle muttered as he walked around to the front of the table with the femme he killed was at. "This was the raider that assaulted me when I was checking the room. She was playing dead," he told them, tapping her on the shoulder.

"So you impaled her through the mouth with a… _spinal strut_?" Ratchet asked in disbelief.

"It was an accident. I shot her and she fell back on it. Trust me, I didn't expect that outcome either," he defended himself.

"Right. Accident. Of course," he muttered, walking around the room and noticed no beds in sight. "Seriously, no beds at all?" Ratchet asked.

"Doesn't look like it," Swindle acknowledged. "Guess we'll be sleeping on the floor. _How grand_."

"Great… might as well look around for anything we can use," he said, heading towards a dresser and looking inside the top drawer. "Aw, frag! What is this? Are these organs!?" he yelled, looking at what appeared to be various mutilated organs of a Cybertronian body before shutting it. "Frag!" he yelled, biting his hand.

"Right…," Swindle mumbled, looking around and finding a cabinet. He went on over and open it, revealing a torso of a corpse. "Slag!" Swindle yelled, holding a hand to his mouth as he looked more closely around the cabinet. He noticed a rifle with a strap behind the body and moved the torso around to get it and look at it. It was a long-barrel riffle composed of black metal and clear plastic to let him look inside, particularly at the clip, and had a stand to help it keep still at long range.

"WHAT IS IT!?" Siren asked.

"Amerlax-103. Hunting rifle. 9 chamber magazine holding .397 rounds. Prone to jamming in bad conditions. Can make reliable shots up to a thousand meters," Swindle answered for them as he took the clip out and looked at it. "Looks okay. A bit weathered, but it looks like it works fine. Got five bullets in it."

"Good to see you're well-versed in the instruments of war," Ratchet said. "I would be saying that sarcastically in other circumstances, but that's wonderful to know right now."

"Thanks," he muttered as he hoisted it on his back. "Tell me if you find any ammo."

"Will do," he said as he looked at the next drawer. "More organs and… here's a box of .397s," Ratchet said, picking up a stained box of them and throwing them to Swindle, who grabbed it and took a look at it.

"17 rounds. Good," Swindle said as he put it in subspace. The group continued to look around and after an hour, they found 28 more bullets for Swindle's rifle, 30 more bullets for the pistols, various drugs that Ratchet took with him as he thought he could do something with, and a few additional stimpaks. "Right, good haul," Swindle said as he looked at his Pipbot. "It'll be dusk soon. Shall we get ready to turn in for the night?" he told them.

"Probably a good idea," Ratchet agreed as they walked into the hallway and Ratchet and Siren took a seat next to each other while Swindle went to look outside. The place was getting dark, just as he thought, and he closed the door. Swindle walked on over to them and looked at the shelf. He looked in side of it and found a datapad hiding behind a bottle of turpentine.

"Well, now, what is this?" he asked as he took it and took a seat next to them. The three of them looked at it with each other.

_We took another person from Swerve City (more like Swerve Warehouse) from up north past the mountain and we had fun with him on the table. Tiquera ripped out his spinal strut and impaled him through the head with it. She's very brutal. I like it. I like her. I think she likes me too. Kind of makes me nervous. I didn't know I can feel this way considering how terrible the world is. I guess love will find a way._

"Swerve City?" Ratchet muttered. "Should we head on over there?"

"Might not be a bad idea," Swindle agreed. "Finding a civilize place would be wonderful." Siren nodded along with them.

"So, Swerve City. This will be fun."


	9. Sparkeater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swindle encounters something in the dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but I haven't updated in a while, and the next chapter will be a lot longer.

"It's almost night," Ratchet murmured as he stood outside, looking up at the sky. It was dusk and soon, it would be too dark to stay out.

"Yeah… first night in this infernal wasteland. How grand," Swindle muttered as he was looking over a knife. The blade was about the length of one's hand and was double-bladed. However, years of used have left rust marks on the blade and handle. It was the one that the femme who stabbed him used on him.

"How's Siren doing?" Ratchet asked.

"Making makeshift ports for us to use in the hallways. He rather us not sleep with all the desecrated corpses," he told him.

"Good. I rather not look at something like that again," he said, pleased. "I wonder how he learn to do that."

"He's obviously military, so I say he learned it there. They have to teach them some survival skills," Swindle told him.

"Yeah, we had a lot of military people in our vault. Probably shared a few tips with each other," Ratchet guessed.

"More than likely," he muttered, walking towards the laser rifle Siren discarded after the machete sank deep into it. He picked it up and took a look at it.

"What are you looking at that for? It's junk now," Ratchet questioned.

"One mech's junk is another's treasure," Swindle responded as he brought it over. "I believe I can fix this, if I can find the right parts."

"You can?" he asked, surprised.

"Sure thing. Looks like the blade damaged the barrel and internal machinery of the rifle. If I can patch it up, it should be useable," the merchant answered. "A working gun sells more than a broken one, as I've learned."

"Good to hear," he nodded. "Can't believe I have to be friends with an arms dealer and it's a good thing."

"Well, sorry about that. But, considering what the world has turned into, I think we can agreed I'm better than people who go out and kill people willy-nilly and dismember them," Swindle remarked.

"Fair point. Society is in the gutter. By comparison, you don't look so bad," Ratchet agreed.

"Hey, I wasn't that bad in the first place. Just a few under-handed dealings, that's all," he said with a cheeky smile.

"Is that all?" he said in doubt, glaring at him.

"For the most part. Yeah, I had to use guns, but it was because of those gangs. Dangerous people," he told him. "Plus, I went to places like Kaon and Helex. You know those two places are absolutely dangerous."

"You forgive me if I think that isn't everything," Ratchet muttered.

"Well, you might have a point, but that's unnecessary information. No need to speak about everything I did back then," he told him with a shrug.

"Might be for the best. Don't want my opinion of you to lessen any more than it already is," he agreed as the door open to Siren poking his head out. "Got the ports ready?" he asked and Siren nodded, wanting them to come in.

"Right, let's see how you've done," Swindle said, putting his knife up and heading inside with Ratchet behind him. Inside, the two of them looked down at three makeshift devices that looked like it could fit in the palm of their hands. "That's it?"

"YES!" he answered and the two of them flinched.

"Alright, how long will this last?" Ratchet asked.

"20 HOURS!" he answered.

"Okay, nod your head if yes or no," Swindle ordered him, and Siren nodded at that. "Okay, so, are these rechargeable?" A nod yes.

"Did you make these from the corpses?" Ratchet asked. Siren hesitated before giving a diagonal shake. "Partially. Oh, that's just great," Ratchet muttered and Siren gave an apologetic look. "Don't. I understand. Lack of resources. Have to deal with it."

"Right, well that's good, but we still need consumables. We're going to have to split the JaAm between the three of us, but we need actual substance that doesn't involve cannibalism," Swindle reminded the two.

"That's true, but I imagine we can find some stuff over at Swerve City, hopefully," Ratchet told him.

"Hopefully. And if it's a settlement, I might be able to wheel and deal there. Let me handle all the trade talks when we get there," he told them.

"Fine by me, but if we have anything involving medical equipment there, I'll examine them first," he ordered.

"Sure thing. Bad medical supplies could be fatal," Swindle agreed to that. "Besides, it's good to make sure supplies are of good quality. Don't want to get ripped off."

"I'm willing to bet you have done it to some of your customers," he said drily.

"Guilty as charged," he said with a wry grin.

"Right," Ratchet muttered as he grabbed a port and looked at it. "Is this fully charge?" he questioned Siren, who gave a shake of the head. "The lights are very dim. Must take a while to charge." This earned another nod from Siren. "Hmm."

"Well, better get the JaAm out. We haven't drank anything since we exited the shelter, so we might as well drink something," he told them. "Frankly, I'm parched and wouldn't mind some right now."

"Don't see a better moment. Swerve City shouldn't be too far, so we should be able to resupply there," Ratchet agreed before turning to Siren. "Okay with you?" He shrugged before getting the JaAm out and handed it to Ratchet who handed it off to Swindle.

"Thanks. Listen, I'm going to take a big gulp and look around the outside for the engine, see if I can find something to make it run better," he told them.

"Alright, fine, but have your gun at the ready for anything," Ratchet told him before handing him the bottle. Swindle quickly took the bottle and popped the top. He quickly took a big gulp before, downing a quarter of it, before handing it back off to Ratchet.

"Be back in a bit," Swindle said before drawing his pistol and heading out the door, leaving Ratchet and Siren behind.

"So, are you okay?" Ratchet questioned him as he took a drink from the bottle of the JaAm. Siren gave a simple nod of his head. "Good. Good. Now, to risk my audials, I would like us to talk."

"REALLY?" Siren questioned and Ratchet flinched at that before answering.

"Yeah, I am. Mainly, what the hell are we supposed to do about the Autobots? I mean, can we really trust a bunch of criminals?" he asked him and Siren thought that through as Ratchet prepared his audials and gave him the bottle of JaAm.

"WELL, ALL WE KNOW ABOUT THEM IS FROM A DYING RAIDER, SO IT'S NOT EXACTLY RELIABLE INFORMATION! WE'LL HAVE TO FIND OUT FROM MORE RELIABLE SOURCES AND RECON!" he answered.

"Right, of course," Ratchet muttered, adjusting his audials as he offered the bottle to Siren, who gladly took it and drank some of it. "Dead people can say some ridiculous things while they're dying due to energon lost. Had a few patients dying from incurable diseases while working at the hospital. Still, can't completely disregard it. Maybe we can get some information from the people over at Swerve City."

"HOPEFULLY! WE NEED INFORMATION ON THEM!" Siren agreed as he gave the bottle back with roughly a tenth of it left. Ratchet gladly took it and down the rest of it.

"Humph, I swear, this is terrible for the denta, but it taste really good," Ratchet said as he tossed the bottle aside and Siren nodded in assent. At that moment, the lights got noticeably brighter. "Ah, Swindle must've gotten the engine working better," he noticed as the two waited a few minutes for Swindle to come back. As they expected, Swindle did come back. What they didn't expect was for him to come back with a sickly green fluid all over him, his gun on his hip, and an object in his hand.

"Okay, can someone tell me what the hell is this?" he asked as he brought the object up, revealing it to be a head. Said head was a rusted one with a segmented mouth and a tongue sticking out that looked like it was meant for draining energon.

"What the frag?!" Ratchet yelled as he stared at it in disgust as did Siren. "Where did you find that?"

"Find it? More like it found me," Swindle told them.

"Huh? Explain yourself," Ratchet ordered him.

* * *

 

_Swindle closed the door behind him as he left the building and turned the flashlight on the Pipbot on. The light went a short distance, which wasn't good, but it was a light in the dark, which was comforting enough. He walked around the side of the building until he round the corner to see a small generator there. He approached it and took a cursory glance at it. As he expected, it was almost out of energy and was running on reserve power. The lid to put fuel in was removed, allowing him to look inside to see faint energon stains inside. If he had the guest, the previous inhabitants were using the energon of the previous people they killed to power the place. Crude, but perfectly doable. Still, Swindle didn't know if he wanted to that. Yeah, he was immoral, but he wasn't a savage. So, how was he going to keep the power back up?_

_*Crack*_

" _Huh?" Swindle muttered, waving his light around and pointing his gun around the area. "Ratchet? Siren? Is that you guys?" he asked. That was met with silence and Swindle, knowing that he was in probable danger, began to head on back to the entrance. He walked carefully, keeping close to the wall so he couldn't be ambushed._

_*Crack*_

_That was above him. He looked up, only to be jumped on by some creature that caused him to lose his grip of his gun and sent it out of his hand. He felt something sink into his left shoulders and gave a scream as he shook the creature off and rolled away from it. He turned to look at it and was shocked to see what looked like a rusted corpse. The creature glared at him with sickly green optics and Swindle noted that his bio-lights were the same shade of green as well. He noticed the creature had its mouth open in a segmented way and this odd tongue with energon dripping out of it and he instinctively held onto his bleeding shoulder. That must've been what injured his shoulders._

" _Damn, you're ugly," Swindle muttered as he pulled his knife out and got ready to fight the creature. The creature gave a screech at him, making him wince, but not as badly as when Siren opens his mouth, before jumping on him. He leapt to the side as it moved and barely managed to avoid what looked like surprisingly sharp claws. He moved quickly and brought the knife down on it, striking it on the left shoulder. The creature barely reacted to it as it shook about to try to get the knife out while Swindle tried to maintain his grip with both hands, straining his injured shoulder. Swindle tugged, trying to rip the knife through him, and successfully rip through it to take the arm off and splattering a sickly-green fluid on the two of them. That got the creature to shriek loudly at Swindle has it brought its arm back and swiped at him, successfully managing to hit him around the lower body, drawing energon._

_Swindle grunted as he dealt with the blow and jumped on the creature, hit against the engine with Swindle on top of the creature, putting his hands on the creature's sole arm to keep it from moving and kept his body on the creature to keep it still as Swindle stabbed the creature in the neck over and over. The creature kept making noises as more and more green fluids came out and splattered Swindle's frame. Swindle didn't think about, just making sure that it died and he was safe. He sure didn't pay attention when the knife went through the spinal strut and creature stopped moving as he continued on until he went through the neck, decapitating the creature._

_When he finally realized the creature was dead, he let go and collapsed to the ground on his back, looking up at the night sky. He couldn't see any of the stars like he did previous times he looked up at the sky at night. So much dust in the air that it was impossible to pierce it. With a groan, he got up and approached the dead creature, laying limp against the engine. Looking at the engine, Swindle noted that power levels were increased. That confused him until he noticed the headless body was laying over the cap of the engine, sending the sickly green fluids inside. "Huh, what a stroke of luck," he murmured to himself. He looked over to the ground and glanced at the head on the ground. Figuring that the others might have something more to say about it, he took the head and soldiered on back to the entrance._

* * *

 

"Wow…," Ratchet muttered as he was tending to his wounds while Siren was looking through a crack of the door to look for anymore threats. "You're quite lucky to escape alive."

"No kidding," Swindle agreed as he tried not to squirm too much as he was taking care of him. "That thing got the *ugh* jump on me really good."

"Yeah. I wonder where that thing's from," Ratchet murmured.

"My guess is that the radiation created it, as I don't recall any *ugh* information about those things," he muttered.

"Yeah, unless it was a secret military project. Siren, ever heard of anything about that?" he asked him, turning to look at him. Siren gave a quick shake of the head no and Ratchet went back to work. "Right, so, we're going with radiation as the cause of these… things."

"Best guess. Do you know why it would do that?" Swindle asked as Ratchet was almost done closing his chest wound up.

"Well, radiation isn't exactly something we study much. We just concentrate on ways to contain it. Though, I doubt radiation would cause that to happen in people," Ratchet told him.

"Maybe it's some experimental radiation or there's something else aside from radiation in the air," Swindle told him.

"I think… these things are called sparkeaters," Ratchet told him.

"Sparkeaters? Those are just fairy tales," he scoffed as Ratchet got done with his body and got to work on his shoulders.

"I know, but I heard one of the raiders talking about sparkeaters. Maybe it's a colloquial name for them," Ratchet told him.

"Makes sense. That thing was after my spark. It was so feral. And if what you're implying is true, than there must be more of those things out there," Swindle shuddered. "I don't want to encounter any of those things again."

"Then we'll try and find the path of least monstrosities," the doctor attempted to comfort him.

"Thank Primus. Screw those creatures," Swindle said. "I hate to imagine what else we'll find out in the wasteland."

"Don't go thinking about that. We'll worry about it if we encounter them," Ratchet told him as he was done with shoulders. "Alright, those stimpaks are good stuff. I would like some professional gear, but it'll do. If we can get out hand on some stuff, I would like to reexamine those wounds to make sure they aren't infected or anything."

"Right, I'm sure we'll find some in Swerve City. Just make sure I'm the one negotiating for the price, whatever they want for currency. I assume they're still using shanix," Swindle muttered.

"Why not?"

"When there's a change in government, they like to replace the currency of the former group with a new one. So don't be surprised if we have to use a different set of currency when we get there," he told him as he laid down on the floor. "Right, I think I'm ready to recharge if you are."

"I am," Ratchet agreed as he laid down on the floor next to him. Siren closed the door and barred it with his broken laser rifle before laying down next to Ratchet. The three of them attached the port to their lower arm and began recharging through the night.


	10. Swerve City

Ratchet onlined to the ceiling and groaned loudly as he sit up. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep in, but it was better than nothing. He stretched his limbs as he looked around to see Siren looking out of the entrance with a hand on his pistol on his hips and Swindle not around the area. “Where’s Swindle?” he asked Siren and he turned his attention to him before nudging his head to the room with all the bodies. “In there? What for? Is he scavenging for materials?” he asked him and the overseer gave a nod before looking back outside. Ratchet gave a sigh before getting up and looking at his pipbot for the time, revealing it to be 9:30 AM. He noticed that was a bit late for him as he made his way to the room. Inside, he could see Swindle giving a last look around the room, currently prone under the table.

“Is that you, Ratchet?” Swindle asked from under the table.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Ratchet told him as he walked on over.

“Well then, place your port on the charger in the corner,” he told him and Ratchet looked over to see Siren and Swindle’s ports connected to a charger. Ratchet did as he said and connected his port to it. His was a stained white and red decal, Siren’s was blue and black, and Swindle’s was purple and red. Wen that was done, he saw Swindle reemerged from the table with a small box in his hand. “Found this hidden under a corpse,” he said as he placed it on a clear place in the table and opened it. “Hello, there,” Swindle muttered in pleasure as he brought out an eight-chamber revolver with a scope, completely white. “This looks interesting.”

“What is that?” Ratchet asked as he looked it over. It looked to be in near pristine condition, nary a stain on it and gleaming under the light.

“It’s a Trivium Revolver. Chambers a high-caliber magnum round. Meant to be used with precision in the field by specialist medics as a powerful self-protection weapon,” Swindle told him as he popped the chamber out to examine it. “Got bullets in all the chamber,” he said as he put in back and spun it around. He smiled before examining the rest of the contents in the box. “Looks like eight more bullets in here. Not much, but it’s something,” he said, thinking it over, before shifting his grip to the barrel and handing it to Ratchet. “Here, fitting that our doctor gets this.”

“What? But you and Siren are better with guns than me,” the doctor refused.

“Come on. I got the hunting rifle. Siren’s got the laser rifle once we get that fix, which I’ll do once we get the necessary materials for it. So, since we’ve both got a long range weapon, how about it? It’ll be good to have, especially for a weapon designed for medics,” he told him. Ratchet gave a groan before doing so, taking the gun by its grip and examined it. It didn’t feel heavy and he looked through the scope to see that it was a red-dot scope with measurements on the side to show where the bullets would go at long distance.

“I would like to practice with this, but since bullets are in short supply, I guess I’ll just have to train in combat,” Ratchet murmured as he holstered the revolver on his left side in front of his pistol. “So, when do we leave?”

“Real soon. We just need to give the ports time to charge and we’ll be on our way out to this ‘Swerve City’ or whatever it’s called,” he told he told him. “Do whatever you want while we’re waiting. You can rest or explore the shack and immediate vicinity of it. Maybe check out that sparkeater corpse on the left side if you want. It’s pretty interesting, if disgusting.”

“I think I’ll do just that,” Ratchet agreed as he left to head back to the hallway where Siren was still acting as a sentry at the doorway. “Hey, Siren, I’m heading out to examine the area.” Siren shifted his gaze over to him and spoke up quickly.

“I’LL ACCOMPANY YOU!” he told him as he draw his pistol out, surprising Ratchet, but he was okay with that. It was always good to have back up. Siren opened the door to let them look out at the brown landscape. Ratchet couldn’t help but feel unnerved at it. It was always such a lustrous silver before the bombs dropped. To have it reduced to this was a tragedy.

“It’s still not a pretty sight,” Ratchet murmured as the two of them walked on out and went to the left side to find the headless corpse of the sparkeater laying against the generator. The two went on over and lifted it off the generator to the ground on its back. From there, Ratchet could examined the heavily rusted-out corpse. Swindle described it as having sickly green lights, so it must’ve looked terrifying that night with it coming down on him. Ratchet sincerely hoped that there wasn’t any more of these around the area, but he had a suspicion that there was more around. They would just have to be more careful when walking through the wasteland. There might be more of these things and other creatures around the wasteland.

Ratchet crouched down and felt around it.  The heavily rusted corpse was uncomfortable to touch. This was the duty of a mortician like Dwell instead of Ratchet, but the corpse might have had something valuable on it. There was nothing on it that would indicate its original paint job and several of the wires frayed, leaving the limbs barely hanging on to the creature due to some weird, stick green substance. It must’ve been a reaction from the internal parts of the cybertronian and the radiation. He felt around the subspace and felt what appeared to be datapad and retrieved it. “Huh, interesting,” he said as he glanced at it and hooked it to him before searching the rest of the body and pulled out a slightly rusted switchblade. “Okay, odd, but it appears to be in decent shape. “Do you have a knife, Siren?” Ratchet questioned him and Siren pulled out a rather large combat knife out of subspace in response. “Right, then we’ll give this to Swindle.”  Siren gave a nod as he put his knife up and continued looking around while Ratchet continued his search of the body. After a little while, he found nothing more from the corpse and the two headed back inside the shack, Siren continued his overwatch at the entrance while Ratchet went back to the room to see Swindle wasn’t in there. He continued on into the bathroom to see Swindle examining the sink and bathroom cabinet.

“Hey, Ratchet. How you doing?” Swindle questioned him with a glance from the dirty mirror.

“Came to give you something,” Ratchet said as he showed the switchblade. Swindle turned to look at it and gave a wry smile.

“Oh, for me? You shouldn’t have,” he said as he grabbed it and examined it. “Not very dull and rusted. Where did you find it?”

“Got it off the corpse of the ‘sparkeater’ that you killed,” Ratchet told him.

“You really checked the corpse? Good to know that you’re not squeamish,” Swindle remarked.

“After all the years in the medical field, I can’t afford to be,” he told him.

“Of course you couldn’t,” Swindle agreed as he put it in subspace. “Got anything else for me?”

“Nah. I just found this datapad on the course,” Ratchet said as he brought it out. “Haven’t even got the chance to look it over.”

“Well, let’s take a look,” Swindle implored him and Ratchet did so, starting it up. It had a few cracks, but certainly still useable. Inside, he noticed some video files and clicked on the first one. At that, a video of a mech with a yellow-and-white color with blue biolights in the video. “That guy… he looks like the sparkeater,” Swindle muttered as the unknown mech spoke up.

“ _Right. This is Crevice of Polyhex,_ ” he told the datapad and that caught both of their interests. Polyhex was quite a ways from Iacon. “ _This is day 15 of the bombs dropping. I’ve been holed up in my personal lab. I’m afraid to head out. I live on the outskirts, so the bomb weren’t close to me, but they still hit my area. My lab is in the basement and reinforced heavily, so it isn’t going to give in that easily and it’ll protect me from the radiation. My only problem is that my energon comes from the lake and it’s extremely irradiated, so I’m having to decontaminate it each time I get some. It’s not hard to do it, but eventually, there come the problem of resources. Sooner or later, I’ll run out of supplies to decontaminate it. After that… I’ll figure something out._ ” The video cut out and the two looked at each other before continuing to the next one, both having a similar idea of how it’s going to end.  

“ _It’s day 73. I know, it’s been a while, but I’ve been busy,_ ” he said in a sickly tone and the two of them noticed that he wasn’t in the best of shape, hunch over at his desk with some green at the edges of the optic and biolights. “ _I don’t know what’s up with this radiation, but every attempt I tried at decontaminating it failed. I get a partial amount gone, but the rest just won’t die. I’ve had a stash of regular energon, but I’m out of that, so I’m forced to drink the irradiated water. I’m doing okay for now, but I’m worried about what the energon will do to me,”_ he told the recorder and the two watchers could see now where this is going. “ _I hope there aren’t any major side effects from drinking all this irradiated energon. I’ve watched a few of those disasters disaster movies and I’m a bit afraid of what’s going to happen. I know they’re unrealistic, but I’m already noticing some weird minor side effects like this green tinge to my biolights and optics. It might get worse, but I have no choice but to endure it. I rather not risk going outside just yet. Let’s hope I can endure this._ ” With that, Crevice reached over and turned the recorder off.

“How many more videos are their?” Swindle asked nervously.

“Five more,” Ratchet muttered. “I don’t think we need to watch all of them to understand where this is going.” At that, the Pipbot rumbled, indicating all the videos were uploaded to the Pipbot. “We can look at them later at our own time anyway if you want.”

“True, we can,” Swindle agreed as he went over to the ports and checked them out. “Alright, the ports are fully charged. Let’s head on out.”

* * *

 

The three of them set out, trekking across the rough ground to get around the nearby mountain. It wasn’t that large, but they still had to get around it by going across the right side. They decided that the right side would be safer since it was farther from the road. They had no idea who were roaming the roads, so it was best to avoid to avoid them for now. That didn’t mean it was completely safe. There might be some wildlife around the area that wouldn’t mind mauling them. That ended up being true as a couple of turbofoxes were roaming while they were trekking and they had to put them down, shooting them with the regular pistols when they got close. Still, other than that, it was a simple trek, which of course led to some complaining from Ratchet and Swindle.

“Ugh, I remember why I don’t go for wilderness walks,” Ratchet murmured in contempt as they were walking a particularly steep section of terrain. “It’s difficult to walk around this uneven ground and shooting things that get too close.”

“Agreed,” Swindle said, his short and stocky frame not being very all-terrain, unlike his alt-mode. “I wish my T-cog was still functional. I can drive just fine in these conditions.”

“GET OVER IT!” Siren told them harshly.

“Right, right, sorry, Mr. Military Mech,” Swindle placated him. “We’re not used to long treks, you know. Me and Ratchet are city slickers.”

“He is right. I’ve never even been away from a road lane until this,” Ratchet told them.

“Wait, seriously?” Swindle questioned him. “Even I have vacationed in some of the more rural areas.”

“Being a doctor is a full time job. I don’t have time to vacation.”

“You should’ve said that to all of the other doctors,” Swindle muttered. “Every other doctor I know of loves vacationing in exotic places.”

“Makes good money. Not surprised some of them took time off. Especially if they just did something stressful,” Ratchet murmured. “I know I felt like taking a few, but I always resisted.”

“That’s some work ethic you got there,” Swindle remarked.

“I’m dedicated.”

“LOOK!” Siren told them and they looked down at a small clearing where a large warehouse was with a small parking lot and a road leading away from it. The warehouse was rundown, the paint being mostly chipped and rusted off. The only thing that looked fresh was a coat of yellow paint at one spot with ‘SWERVE CITY’ written on it. Obviously, that probably wasn’t the originally title of the place, and was put there by the new owner.

“Finally. Let’s hurry up,” Swindle told them and the two agreed as they picked up the pace. It was a quick hike down the hillside, the two civilians stumbling a bit as they were heading down. They reached the bottom and headed to the left to get to the front entrance. They made the turn and looked to see a small set of steps to reach a door and two large shutters that had ‘SWERVE CITY’ painted on it as well and they felt a rumble as their Pipbots acknowledged what they found. Beside the door was a sign with a message on it.

“Welcome to Swerve City. Come on in and rest at the bar, sleep in private containers, or trade with people,” Ratchet read the sign out loud. “So it’s basically an outpost.”

“Yeah. Let’s hope they’re some people in there,” Swindle said as he walked up the steps to the entrance with the two following along. The merchant placed a hand on the handle and pushed it open, leading them into an office space as a bell rung out. Some attempts had been made to clean it up, but it still looked like it came from the apocalypse with dirt and grime everywhere. Sitting at a desk they could see a rather average-size mech with blue all around him with red on his hands and feet as well as the upper arm and yellow optics. His paint job was slightly faded and some dirt, grime, and scars was on him. He immediately placed his attention to them as they came in and looked them over. The three of them likewise did the same, taking note of the rather clean, high-caliber pistol in his hand and they could tell that the gun could punch a large hole in something.

“And who may all of you be?” the mech asked, relaxing in his chair, but everyone could see that he had his gun position to be able to point it in their direction.

“I guess you can call us explorers,” Swindle told him in the most relaxing tone possible.

“Where from?” he questioned them.

“We’re from a vault,” he said and the receptionist’s optics brighten as he hunched over in his chair at that.

“You’re a vault-dweller?” he asked, surprised.

“If that’s what you call us, sure,” Swindle agreed. “We’re out and about and hoping for a place to stay and maybe some directions.”

“Huh,” the mech muttered before getting up. “Wait here. I’ll bring Swerve down here. You three are a very special occasion.” With that, he left, heading out of the room through a door at the back, leaving the three behind.

“Looks like us being from the vault is unique,” Ratchet remarked. “

“That’s not surprising,” Swindle acknowledged. “I mean, these people probably didn’t live in safety when the bombs went off.”

“More than likely,” Ratchet agreed. “These people are survivors and they probably won’t like people living in safety.”

“Envy is a powerful thing,” he nodded as he turned to Siren. “Hey, don’t speak until I explain the situation with your voice box, alright? I imagine they won’t take well to someone shouting at them. You saw his gun, right?” Siren gave a curt nod at that. He understood and didn’t want to make any unintentional enemies. The door opened back up and they see the unidentified figure return with a mech that was even shorter and just as stout. He had a white body and upper limbs with red covering the rest of the limbs and a bright, cheeky smile on his face.

“Hey there! Are you guys actually from the vault?” he immediately questioned as he walked over and stood in front of them with the unidentified bot resting on the desk, the safety clearly off now.

“We sure are,” Swindle greeted as he offered a hand and Swerve gladly took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Wow, what made you decide to come up into this hellhole?” he questioned him, surprised.

“It… wasn’t exactly a choice,” Ratchet told them.

“Oh… got some problems?” Swerve questioned them.

“More than a few.”

“Oh… OK,” Swerve understood. “Well, got any currency?”

“Is the world still taking shanix?” Swindle questioned him.

“Yes, although the value of it has lessen,” he told them. “Don’t expect to get as much out of it as you usually could.”

“So what do people take today?” Swindle questioned him.

“A few items, but in particular, you want to look for caps,” Swerve answered the questioned.

“Caps? As in bottle caps?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re widespread, easy to find, easy to transport, and difficult to counterfeit,” he explained to them.

“Huh, how interesting,” Swindle muttered and the other two were intrigued by it as well. They would have to keep their optics open for them.

“How long have you been out of the vault?” the mech behind Swerve asked.

“We left yesterday,” Ratchet told them.

“Yesterday?” Swerve asked, surprised. “Wow, you’re really new to the whole wasteland thing, are you?”

“Very much so,” Swindle told them.

“Wow… okay, here’s a deal. Since you’re so new and have no idea what’s going on, I’ll let you stay here for the night for free,” Swerve offered with a friendly smile.

“No catch?” he asked, suspicious.

“None whatsoever. Just make sure you don’t cause any troubles,” Swerve warned them. “Skids here is really good with that gun of his,” he indicated was a shrug of his head to the figure behind him.

“Seriously, don’t do anything stupid,” Skids told them as he relaxed in his chair.

“We won’t, don’t worry,” Swindle assured him.

“Right, before I leave you guys alone, what are your names?” Swerve questioned them.

“I’m Swindle, this is Ratchet, and he’s Siren,” he gave their names.

“Right, cool,” Swerve nodded before turning to Siren. “I haven’t you speak at all. Are the shy?” he questioned him.

“Uh, let me go ahead and answer that. You see, Siren can’t speak without being at max volume. He’s got problems with his voice box. So if you hear him yelling, it’s probably nothing,” Swindle told him.

“Oh, cool,” Swerve draw out. “You must’ve been a teacher or a drill sergeant or something that involves lots of yelling.”

“Well, he was the overseer, so you could say he did quite a bit of talking back there,” Swindle told them.

“Sweet. Please, come on to the bar. I would like to hear what it’s like to live in the vault and I can tell you about what’s happened in the world since the bombs dropped,” Swerve told them.

“He can talk for _hours_ about it,” Skids told them. “Make sure you have plenty of spare time.”

“Noted,” Swindle nodded and Swerve headed on out through the door while Skids took a seat behind the desk again.

“Bottom floor is wide open with plenty of shipping containers around to sleep in. Pick an unoccupied one. Considering the size of your party, I recommend one with two containers stacked on top of each other. Swerve has his bar up the set of stairs and you can find traders all around the area. Have fun,” he said as he relaxed and began reading a datapad. The three of them nodded as they exited the room through the doorway onto a metal walkway not too far off the ground with steps on both side, the ones on the right heading down and the ones on the left heading up. They took the steps to the right and went down to look around. In front of them was a rather large clearing with a bunch of sitting areas around the area and shipping containers on the other side, most likely where they could sleep. There were quite a few people around the area just hanging out, talking, or trading. The people around glance at them when they came, but went back to ignoring them to focus on their own goals.

The three of them walked on through the area to the containers and looked around to figure out which one they could use. The ones that were in use had a red occupied sticker on the container. After a little while, they found two containers stacked on top of each other that wasn’t use and opened it up. Inside was a small living area chairs on the front, a single makeshift slab on the end, and a ladder in the middle leading to the second container. Makeshift lights were around the area to light the place up dimly. Swindle moved on ahead and climbed up the steps to two more slabs at each end of the container and he relayed the information the other two. With that done, they place their stuff around the living area, closed the door so Siren could speak, and relax in the chairs.

“Alright, this place isn’t so bad,” Swindle said as he leaned in his chair. “So, what shall we do while we’re here?”

“FIND INFORMATION!” Siren told them. “IT’S IMPERATIVE THAT WE FIND OUT MORE ABOUT EITHER THE AUTOBOTS OR THE END OF THE WORLD.”

“That’s a good idea. Lots of people around. We could obtain a lot of information from them,” he agreed.

“We also need to obtain supplies as well,” Ratchet said. “Without them, we might as well not leave the area.”

“AND I’LL CONTACT THE PEOPLE IN THE VAULT TO SEE HOW THEY’RE HOLDING OUT! WE’RE ON A TIME LIMIT AND NEED TO BE QUICK HERE!” he reminded them.

“Right, you do that while me and Ratchet socialize and see if we can find some information and supplies for us to use,” Swindle agreed as he got up and Ratchet followed along.

“GOOD LUCK!” Siren said as the two exited and close the door.


	11. Talking with Swerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Swindle talk to Swerve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but it's dialogue heavy and has plenty of world-building going on.

“So, who do you want to speak to, first?” Swindle asked Ratchet as they placed the occupied sticker on their container and looked around at everyone. The crowd were still doing what they did before. Some were just sitting by themselves, some were talking with each, and others were engaged in minor trading.

“Got a personal opinion on what to do?” Ratchet asked him.

“Well, as a merchant, I would like to start bartering with the traders,” he replied. “We could get some medical equipment for you and some survival equipment. Maybe some gear for our weapons.”

“That would make for a good first choice, but we don’t really have much to trade with. The value of shanix has lessen significantly, so it won't matter much,” the doctor reminded him.

“Yeah, that’s true. I have 4000 shanix on me, but we have no idea how much that’s worth now,” Swindle agreed, thinking it through.

“Hold on? You have 4000 on you right now, at this moment?” Ratchet asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, of course. You got to have walk around money,” the merchant told him.

“400 shanix is walk around money, not 4000,” Ratchet told him. “Why would you need that much money?”

“It’s walk-around money,” Swindle repeated, getting annoyed. “I’m a merchant, don’t you remember? Sometimes, you need a large amount of shanix to seal a sudden deal. I walk around for them all the time.”

“Even in a fallout shelter?”

“Of course. Duh,” Swindle told him. “Why not, anyway? It’s completely digital, so their easy to walk around with.”

“It also makes you a more attractive target,” Ratchet reminded him.

“You think I don’t know that? I can defend myself against any potential thieves and robbers, you know? I went to the gun range all the time,” Swindle told him. “Met a lot of customers there that helped me out with them in exchange for a _slight_ discount.”

“Well… guess I shouldn’t question it. Gives us money to spend,” Ratchet relented.

“Don’t you have some money?” Swindle questioned him.

“No, I don’t. Sorry. You’re going to have to be the spender for us.”

“Guah,” the merchant grunted while crossing his arms. “Of course, my money is the one we got to spend. Can’t be anyone else’s.”

“Swindle, don’t argue about it. I know you value your money, but we’re trekking through a wasteland devoid of life and filled with danger. We need these items to protect us,” Ratchet attempted to ease him.

“I know. Calm down,” Swindle told him, sounding annoyed. “I recognize the situation we’re in and what we have to do. It’s just that… it’s my money, you know. I’m a greedy fragger. Just… let me handle all the discussions of deals so that we can deal the least amount of damage to my wallet, okay?”

“Of course. You’re the professional, here,” Ratchet insisted. “I trust you can make the right deals.”

“Damn right, I can,” he agreed with a smirk. “Now, let’s go talk to these people. Figure out what these people are like before we start wheeling and dealing.”

“Alright.”

“Also, we should go talk to Swerve as well. He might tell us something about the traders that might help us,” Swindle recommended to him.

“Alright… so what do you want to do first: talk to Swerve or talk to the traders?” Ratchet questioned and Swindle thought about it for a few seconds before saying his conclusion.

“Let’s go talk to Swerve. He probably has info on the traders. Plus, we could learn some things about what happened after the bombs dropped from him,” Swindle answered.

“Yes, we could. I’m extremely interested in figuring out what happened after the bombs dropped,” Ratchet agreed.

“Death and destruction for starters. Swerve can fill us in on all the rest. Let’s go,” Swindle ordered and Ratchet nodded in agreement. The two made their way through the traders and talkers on to the stairs and climbed up. They climbed the steps to the top and opened the door to reach a hallway. A makeshift metal sign with ‘BAR’ and an arrow pointing to the left painted on it in yellow and ‘MED with a red arrow pointing to the left. The two followed along to a door at the end of the hallway and opened it to see what looked to be a manager’s office, but it had been significantly reworked to become a bar. Several tables were set up at the back to set up the countertop as well as several shelves to hold various bottles of liquids in different colors. Stools were in front of the counter top as wells chairs around two tables. In the room was two femmes conversing with each other on the left table, and a mech on the right table by himself sipping a purple liquid from a glass, with Swerve behind the countertop.

As they entered, Swerve noticed them and waved them on over. “Hey, you guys came to see me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Swindle said as the two walked over to him and took a seat on the stools.

“So, what will you have? An Iacon Delight or-”

“Not for drinks,” Ratchet corrected. “We came to talk you about a couple of things.”

“Oh, really?” he asked as he leaned in. Looking behind the countertop, Ratchet noticed that there was a makeshift platform made from boxes going behind across the entire countertop to give Swerve additional height, making him about a head taller than Swindle. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Let’s start with the bombs,” Ratchet said first. “What happened after they dropped and how many places were hit by them.”

“From what I heard, pretty much every damn place was hit by nukes,” Swerve told them. “Some were blanketed with nukes while the lucky ones were only at the edge of an explosion and hit by radiation. Lucky you guys for getting a damn vault,” he said bitterly.

“Hey, we had no idea what was going to happen,” Swindle immediately defended themselves.

“Most people didn’t,” Swerve agreed as he relaxed his tone again. “Someone did in order to prepare all those vaults, but the people that knew about the nukes had to have been in drastically low numbers.”

“Why in the hell did the nuke go off in the first place?” Swindle asked. “I thought there was a ceasefire.”

“I don’t know. All we know is that all of the warring places launch their nukes at the same time. We don’t know who pulled the trigger first, but the ones who saw the nukes coming launch theirs in retaliation and that’s how the world went to hell,” Swerve told them.

“So, it was basically a global Cold War. All the nations had their nukes pointed at each other and each of them responded,” Ratchet said.

"Yeah. The only mystery about it is who fire the first shot and caused the others to launch their nukes,” Swerve told them. “No one really knows who fired the first shot. There’s been plenty of guesses, most of them being pointed at Zelgier over in the west and at us, because of course the other nations would blame us, but like I said, no one knows for sure. Probably never will,” Swerve told them.

“Right, the warring nations. If I’m correct, there’s six of them, including us, right?” Swindle asked. “There’s us, that being Cybercron, Zelgier over to the west, Tolophox to the north, Mecca to the south, Founte to the east, and Vertex to the opposite end of the world.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like they matter anymore. Most government officials and leaders are dead. Pretty much no one cares about them nowadays. We’re all equal now,” Swerve said sadly as he hopped off the crate and himself a bottle labeled ‘Iacon Delight’ and made his way back to the bar to pour himself a glass of it and down some. “Yep… I need that,” he muttered before leaning in again.

“How exactly has society survived?” Ratchet asked.

“It didn’t. The first 50 or so years was pure chaos. People attacking each other indiscriminately, looting, radiation, and the death of the nation’s leaders ensure that. Me and Skids were rooming together in an apartment at Polyhex when the bombs went off. Polyhex didn’t get it that bad, but we were still hit by shockwaves and radiation. Me and Skids had to do some sketchy things to survive, but I doubt anyone came out of this mess with a clean conscious,” Swerve told them gravely.

“I understand,” Swindle muttered and Ratchet shifted his glare at that. Swindle’s antics were still fresh in his mind, despite him being his friend.

“Well, right now, there’s some sense of a society forming. It’s not perfect, but it’s something,” Swerve said as finished off his glass. “Need to stop drinking my stuff, you know? It costs me money.”

“Heh, I can also understand that. I was a merchant before the bombs dropped. I may’ve tried out some of my own stuff,” Swindle said with a wry smile.

“Then you’ll fit in among here. Lots of merchants and traders. Now, as I was saying, some people have been able to build up parts of society, including here in Iacon. There’s a bunch of people that’s set up Eastside at what used to be Whitesteed's Office and Warehouse. It’s run by a group of people called the Safe Measure Society. They’ve been doing a lot of good work in getting society off its feet again through their egalitarian efforts. They’ve set up a medical center their as well as making a deal with the Feiros Caravan Company. Feiros is set up in Iacon as well, albeit at the opposite side in Westhaven at the Feiros Center,” Swerve explained to them and at that, both Ratchet and Swindle’s Pipbot rumbled from the information gained from him. “What’s that?” Swerve asked.

“This?” Ratchet asked and Swerve shook his head. “It’s a Pipbot. One is given out to every member of the vault. It has a lot of functions such as diagnostics, inventory, map, and archiving messages and videos,” he explained to him.

“Yeah. It rumbled because of the locations you gave us,” Swindle continued to explain to him. “Don’t know how it works, but it’s a impressive device.”

“It does,” Swerve agreed with a smile. “Wish I had one. I’m probably not the only one who thinks that. Better be on the lookout. Someone might want to take that by force,” he warned.

“Fair point,” Swindle muttered, looking behind him at the mech and femmes, who appeared to be ignoring them, before turning back around.

"Well, that’s about all I can tell you about the fallout. Anything else?” Swerve asked.

“Three things,” Ratchet said.

“My, you got a lot to say. I don’t mind. I like talking to people,” the bartender said as he poured himself another glass in preparation.

“Well, first, what can you tell us about the traders?” Swindle asked him. “We’re trying to go after the ones with the best deals and cause the least amount of damage to my finances.”

“Well, it depends. You generally have to check their prices against one another to see who’s has the best, but if you’re a smooth talker, you could get them to lower their prices,” Swerve told them. “Also, if you want some medical supplies of high quality, you’re best talking to our doctor in the medical room. You saw the sign for it, right?”

“Of course,” Ratchet responded.

“Figures. You look like you belong in the medical profession,” Swerve guessed.

“Good call. Doctor and surgeon,” he said.

“Possibly the only one we got left. One is dead and the other was abducted because of the attack at our vault,” Swindle told him.

“Wow, tough luck,” Swerve muttered. “I’ll, uh… tell the two doctors in there to give you a discount. Sounds like you need all that you can get.”

“Would prefer if it was free, but we’ll take all that we can,” Swindle thanked him.

“Sorry, I need money to survive,” he apologized. “Now, what else do you wanna know?”

“We need to contact the Autobots to help us,” Ratchet told him, which caused Swerve to gaze at him dumbly.

“You want to look for those band of criminals? Why?” Swerve asked.

“Because our vault is currently being assaulted by the Decepticons. The only way we’re countering them is through getting some help,” Swindle told him. “Please, we need all the help we can get.”

“Dammit…,” Swerve moaned. “I was afraid of the Decepticons. The Autobots may be a bunch of criminals, but at least they’re willing to work with us. The Decepticons… dammit. If they invaded your vault, they’re probably not too far from here as well,” the bartender muttered in worry.

“You be correct. You see why we need them,” the merchant said as he leaned in. “Come on, you got anything.”

“Yeah, I can tell you one of them is here. A mech by the name of Blaze is hanging around. Painted in blue with a red face and yellow optics. Seems pleasant enough,” Swerve informed them.

“What was his crime?” Swindle asked.

“He’s a hitmech. Killed a few people for money. He wasn’t the best. He’ll tell you all this himself, but he blames everyone else for his mistakes,” Swerve told him.

“A hitmech? Great…,” Swindle muttered as he turned to Ratchet. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

“More like what have you gotten us into,” he accused and Swindle sighed at that.

“Point taken. So, we’ll find him in the main area, right?” Swindle asked the bartender for more information.

“Maybe. He likes to go outside to explore and hang out in his container. The only time he’s really social is at night when he comes over here. He likes to drink up,” he told them.

“We’ll keep that in mind. Say, has he explained why he’s here?” Ratchet asked him.

“Said he’s just hanging out, offering an extra set of hands as a way for the Autobots to connect with the community. I personally doubt it, but I have no choice but to take his word for now,” Swerve told them.

“Yeah, I be suspicious of him too,” Swindle agreed

“Right, what’s the last thing you wanna know?”

“More like information for you,” Ratchet began. “A group of raiders a bit away from here behind the mountain have been abducting people and murdering them for fun.”

“Wait, really?” Swerve asked in shock. “I’ve noticed people disappearing, but I didn’t think they were being abducted.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. We killed them,” Swindle told him to ease his mood.

“Oh, thank Primus,” Swerve said in relief. “I try to keep this place safe. Can’t believe someone was abducting and murdering people.”

“It’s no problem,” Ratchet said.

“You know… if you have the time, I would like to know how they were able to abduct them. I keep this place safe and need to know how they did it. Please, if you do so, I’ll pay you in return,” Swerve asked them.

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” Swindle muttered before turning to Ratchet. “What do you say? We probably won’t be able to talk with Blaze until he comes for a drink. Could be something to do while we’re here.”

“True. Plus, I hate for anyone else to be abducted,” Ratchet agreed before turning to Swerve. “Fine, we’ll figure out how they were abducting your people.”

“Good,” he sighed in relief at that before reaching down under the bar to pull out a bag. “Here, a 100 caps for taking those raiders out. I’ll give you another hundred if you find the way they were abducting people.” The two vaultdwellers look at each other before Swindle grabbed it.

“Thanks,” Swindle said as he put it in storage. “We’ll try to find an answer for you.”

“Good to hear. Anything else?” Swerve asked them.

“I think that’s it. Thank you for helping us,” Ratchet thanked him.

“Right. Good luck,” Swerve said as the two left the countertop and entered the hallway.

“Scrap, we got quite a bit more work to do now,” Swindle muttered.

“True, but these abductions worry me as they should you,” Ratchet told him.

“They do. Just that, well, we’re on a tight schedule,” Swindle reminded him.

“Well, let’s hope we find an answer and make these deals before Blaze gets over-energized tonight. Now, let’s get started.”


End file.
